Icecream For A Year?

Today is your lucky day. You get three wishes, granted to you by The Daily Post. What are your three wishes and why?

Scooperman

Oh thank heaven for the Daily Post.

Without it, I wouldn’t be as far along as I am right now with this blog, still stuck in a mediocre rut. I wouldn’t have met so many wonderful bloggers either, many of them I’ve been reading and connecting with since September 2014 when this magical ride of mine began.

Thankfully, my mind has been expanded this past year by injecting it with daily doses of WordPress’ miracle drug, which does not guarantee any miracles persay. It’s official motto: “When you’re being subdued by the infamous blogger’s block, call on Daily Promptax. You’ll be cast away to blog heaven in no time”. May or may not contain traces of LSD or other hallucinogenic drugs.

Today The Daily Post is granting me three wishes. Now, if I have learned anything from them, I would take these and use them very wisely because they would probably be the best way to escape this uneventful life of mine and soar to the stars.

I would wish to be famous. Why not? It’s the route that most 20 somethings are embarking on or have already been apart of for a while. So why not me? In terms of this, I’m thinking YouTube famous but I could go for the real enchilada. I would ask my own personal Daily Post genie (which is really a 3D projection from Ben Huberman) and would wake up tomorrow with 15 million subscribers and hundreds of amazing videos. YouTube always has been a fascinating dream of mine, but so far I’ve been unable to really do anything. What if the wish put me into the body of one of the stars and I could live their life?

Photography is one of my favorite hobbies. I love to take my camera anywhere I go, never wanting to miss that perfect moment when I come across something that has art written all over it. But there isn’t always anything good to photograph or days go by where I’m trapped with my dull surroundings, unable to escape this “prison” that restricts my imagination. My second wish would be to always have something wonderful to take a picture of everyday. Whether it is dropped in front of me or I’m magically transported to a beautiful place on the planet, I would love for there always to be something to inspire me. True, you can find something amazing in the most mundane photos but I’m talking about going to Paris or China and getting something entirely brand new.

Scooperman

And I saved the best for last because this is one of my favorite guilty pleasures. Icecream is something I can’t get enough of. Actually, who cannot say that? My final wish (I was going to ask for more wishes but that would require additional paperwork and selling my soul) would be to have those mini containers of icecream delivered to my house every day for free. Two or three would suffice. The flavor would always be a surprise. I would eat it in the day or at night. I wouldn’t get sick on it either because it’s magical icecream.

Why didn’t I ask for a million gazillion dollars like any normal person would? Because the first wish basically guarantees that already if I’m a big movie star and all of a sudden I would be a prime target for identity theft and espionage. People wouldn’t leave me alone. Paparazzi would always be hanging around my tall shrubberies in the shapes of lions. Friends and relatives would always be asking me for cash or to buy them a new house. I’d be on the cover of every magazine and wouldn’t be able to hide. And I sure wouldn’t know what to do with all that money or if it would even be safe in a bank.

But who am I kidding? It would be awesome to be filthy rich.

In my official autobiography, when writing down how I earned all my wealth, I would write down these four words:

I thank the genie. (That’s the name of the book as well)


In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Lucky Star.”

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Remember My Name

The little light in the darkness, I’m running towards it, the excitement pulsing through my veins, finally able to see glory. The sound of a crowd cheering, roaring my name, growing from a faint whisper to a sound on the level of a jet engine. Crunch, crunch, crunch, the sound of the gravel goes as I run towards the bright spot. I want them to remember my name, to know who I am. Once I am out in the open, I will proclaim my status, will command them to praise and rejoice in my presence. The crowd is waiting for my arrival. I’m stumbling besides the tracks, my heart beating like a metronome, breath coming in short, painful gasps. Arms flailing, sweat drops rolling on my forehead. I push myself further on, fighting through the pain, until I reach the light, run straight through it, but what do I find? In the name of this post, I would call it blog heaven or blog nirvana, reaching viral fame for the first time.

Today the prompt has asked for us, in the event of viral fame, to write a post we’d like others to remember us byI have a lot of posts in my depository that could be worthy of immortal status, many of them you have never read yet. Many of them are photography related (which received the majority of the “likes” on this blog), some are attempts at poetry – long, short, rhyme, free-verse, haiku. The majority of my posts came from responding to the Daily Prompt, which I treat as the starting points for unleashing the full potential of this blog. I have to say I’ve come a long way since beginning this blog in 2013 on a desktop computer. It now runs faithfully from a Windows 8.1 Toshiba laptop that isn’t perfect but gets the job done. You are free to search through my archives in order to find some great posts I have published in the past, though don’t take them by face value, I was just getting started, hadn’t found my edge yet.

I made a bold attempt at playing Pac-Man today and beating all 256 levels. I think the highest level I’d gotten to in the past was ten. The hard thing about this classic 80s game is that the ghosts get faster and smarter after about the third level. Once the red ghost, Blinky, gets on your ass at around the twelfth level, you have no chance of escaping unless you get to one of the side tunnels in time. Well, the thing is, I’m playing an online version (it’s on pause right now) with the ability to save your progress and I’ve made it pretty far in the game, though I have no idea what level number I’m on, so I guess you can say I’m not really beating Pac-Man (I died about one hundred times), I’m taking advantage of a feature that dumbs down the integrity of the original game. Even with the save feature, I have to be careful not to save my progress and get what I call a “death trap” e.g saving while being cornered by two ghosts, unable to get out it when reloading. It would be neat to reach the final level (not sure if it would be the original ‘Kill Screen”) but I wouldn’t feel total elation because it would be an illegitimate win, one with a safety net down the whole time, and no one would recognize me anyway. But the sound of viral fame spreading like wildfire if I did, in fact, complete the original game on camera (along with getting the highest score possible) without the save feature would be warm, cheerful, and enthusiastic. A regular Billy Mitchell.

The name of this post being inspired by the promotional tagline for the final season of Breaking Bad, if my blog went viral, I would feel incredibly accomplished, amazingly joyful. But I wouldn’t just stop there and believe I was finished with my work because my blog had reached its ultimate goal. I would keep doing what I love, not changing just because of the pressure to continue to impress a much larger audience than before. Yes, there would be pressure to keep this thing up if I broke through the darkness and reached blog heaven, and the fear that I would eventually fall from the top of the mountain, which is inevitable, but it would still be a dream come true. To have people remember me by just one post is not enough. I want to be remembered for everything I’ve done, all the work I’ve accomplished to reach viral status. All of my collective works would be nothing without learning and relearning, reinventing myself everytime something starts to not work anymore. Is viral fame overrated? Perhaps. How long will you be relevant in the public’s eye before you eventually fade away, being replaced by the next best thing? How much work you do have to do to keep the fire burning? If my blog was in digital lights, I would feel well appreciated and thankful, but at the same time would know that no one stays at the top forever. I’ve never had anything of mine “break the Internet”, a term coined for Kim Kardashian’s nude photo shoot attempt at doing so, and even if I never get to have that honor, I would still feel happy with how much I’ve done, how much I’ve learned, and all the fun I’ve had participating in this worldwide wide activity we call blogging.


In Response to the Daily Prompt: For Posterity