The Faux Pas Press #55

The Faux Pas Press #55

By Jason Fresh

11 October 2010

If fads could be feelings I wish money were wasted on mine. I wish the lines of consumers entered my heart to buy the byproduct of a soul’s exorcism – wish they would buy my feelings like a pair of Keds was once bought for a 1980’s 6th grader, wish they would laugh at my feelings like a Youtube phenomenon. If fads could be feelings, especially mine, they would belong to everyone – not just me. So, I wouldn’t feel so bad about them. “How are your doing?” she asks. “Not very well, but then again, you already knew that. You’re wearing my shoes. They’re in this year.” Shit. If fads could be feelings I would not have to carry them forever. I could exchange them when the new fall line of clothing comes or I could just throw them away when they’ve outstayed their welcome.

I know that fads are dumped, cracked, and slung. They’re sold to the highest feeler. And the highest feeler is he who treads on fads, he who cozies up to the most recent advertisement. Yes, of course, but of course, feelings are fads. This is why the rain always passes and happy turns to sad. This is why my dad’s lot became my mother’s and my mom’s became my dad’s – why the shit turns to solid and why a frog was once a tad. Why my school teachers were always spiritually sick. This is why we invented words like fag. This is why he later becomes a Christian and the preacher secretly dresses in drag.

HHmmmmm. I think I’ll design my own fads from here on out. Yeah, yep, I think I’ll design my own fads.