King Of Nothing
If there was ever something, then it left me and became nothing. Middle of the pack like a set of buck teeth, ain’t the canines or the molars. Hidden in plain sight just like the garbage that sits on the floor outdoors for the troubled man in green to pick up. King of nothing, the male ruler of the independent state of nothingness. I wouldn’t say that I come from a monarch, the lineage doesn’t pass down this position. The rest of my living family have names tags given, thats a disqualification for the running. It’s self proclaimed because no one bothered with the rankings, claimed before expired like some coupons in the daily papers. A groundskeeper out there for a baseball team is the king of gum wrappers, he just has to claim it. There has to be a king for every single thing; the actual monarch family tree knows nothing of athleticism. These rankings are a double edged sword, you work on being great usually. It’s a spectrum thing, you just land and try to be the best in town. Sometimes you are just so terrible that you are in a class of your own, you are the best at it and there is a sneaky suspicion that it is done on purpose. Best at being awful, the consistency is there and consistency is key but it is up to you if you want to take pride in being that awful. As the king of nothing, right below mediocrity is key. Can’t think of anything you are good at or can take pride in, so you have to make something up and let the resume match it. Nothing notable or memorable that I can think of within my lifespan, my highlight reel will be the title then cited source page. Furthest from being the best worker at the job site but not the worst. I’m not the slob that shits in the woods but I haven’t changed my pants in three days. I don’t think my body would allow me to get to four hundred pounds or to become a competitive eater. I’m not even good at being lazy, it stresses me out. Still have hair on my head, sometimes it falls off in the shower. My room is a mess but the floor is dusted while the dishes are clean because they are made of paper. Play a lot of video games but not good at all, keep getting ran over by a horse. I’m short but i’m not necessarily known for it like a dwarf. I dry my clothes in the machine but it still comes out wet. This roof over my head is not mine, I have to follow the landlord’s rules. No skills or street smarts at all, i’d have to be left in the lost and found if dropped off in a big city. I can’t speak without hesitation or slurred speech. I’m not the biggest piece of shit but I have the makings of being a piece of shit. My handwriting sucks, the bank won’t me sign my checks without a notary being there. My socks don’t match, two lefts today and wool with dress socks tomorrow. I don’t know if it will rain tomorrow but I should know. Born before participation mattered so I never got a ribbon, metal, or trophy. Terrible at school but same with work, so made no sense to dropout. Ain’t ever been the best in town or around, leave that for the mechanics to decide. No ounce of potential like a raw prospect that is now a fifth year senior. Comparison is the thief of joy but without comparisons, I wouldn’t find my way home. My apartments has the broken fence with piss yellow paint, no where near the ones in gated communities. The king of nothing, having nothing to take pride in besides besides being the king of nothing.