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  • Writer's pictureEric Rushton

I Got Nothing

Mate, I’ve got nothing to add of any substance to any conversation whatsoever.

There’s so much going on in the world – racism, sexual abuse, transphobia, a cheeky pandemic – and little old Rushton doesn’t know what to say about any of it.

I’m not sure I should have opinions tbh. Who am I to have an opinion? I don’t even know how to boil rice properly. Who wants to hear from someone who can’t even make rice? I have to buy packet rice. No one who watches rice rotate through a microwave door for two minutes should have serious opinions.

I dunno why I stand there and watch it the whole time. I think I worry that the bag will explode or something, so I have to remain on guard. But I catch a glimpse of my own reflection sometimes in the microwave door and think, “you’re a very pathetic man, Eric Rushton.”

Even people who make boil-in-a-bag rice look down on me.

Often I’m so stressed about cooking the microwave rice properly that I forget to make it with anything, so I end up just eating a bowl of plain basmati rice and feeling sorry for myself -- mealtimes for me can feel like I just got no stars in an I’m a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here Bushtucker Trial.

At least if I was actually on I’m A Celeb I’d be bringing down some former Eastenders actors down with me. At the moment, that fella who played Minty is getting off scot-free.

I think my motives for wanting to have something to add to the big conversations at the moment are mainly selfish. I basically just want to write something. This lockdown is dragging on and I’m worried about stagnating creatively.

You know what else is dragging on? Structural racism. Let’s end it, lads.

See – it doesn’t seem right when I try to slot that stuff in.

But like, part of me thinks all this chaos in the world means I should have loads to write about. It’s hard to write about my life because it’s very mundane and same-y at the moment. I wake up, eat my breakfast, do some yoga, maybe go for a walk, maybe read, maybe watch something, have lunch at some point, then eventually it’s evening. Then I make my rice and wind down. That’s it. It’s not particularly inspiring.

And it’s not even mundane in an “this is an endless cycle of misery way.” I actually feel alright at the moment. Fairly content. Maybe that’s a sign that you’ve got a good life – that you have nothing to write about. Someone with a life that’s actually hard probs doesn’t know where to start with what to write about because they’ve got so much shit going on.

Previously I’ve felt like my life is hard because of the old depression running through me veins, but that doesn’t seem so bad at the moment – hopefully it will come back soon so I can get some content out. The upside of feeling so bad that you want to die is that it can often inspire some tasty pull-back-and-reveal jokes.

What’s funny about wanting to live a long, healthy and happy life where you can work on your various goals and strive to build better interpersonal relationships? Fuck all. Imagine a comedian coming on stage and being like, “Hi everyone, when I look at things on a global scale, I’m actually incredibly blessed, and I want to use my privilege to help others and be an ally.”


I’m tryna be grateful as well. Gratitude isn’t funny. Comedians should be complaining about how shit the service was in a restaurant they went to. When I’m in a restaurant and the service is bad, I’m like, “I’m just grateful that we live in a developed country where food is not just in abundance, we can sell the eating of it as an experience. Never mind the food, the only thing I find distasteful is how easily we forget our own good fortune.”

You know what, this might actually be a good character act. I might be onto something.

I dunno. Maybe I should just be learning about all this stuff going on in the world, rather than thinking about how to turn it into content. I should be listening. We have two ears and only one mouth, so we should listen more than we speak. But then maybe you could also say we should speak more to compensate for our lack of mouths. Also, if everyone listens more than they speak soon we’ll have nothing to listen to. Except our own thoughts. How much should you listen to your thoughts? You have one one mind but two lungs, so you should breathe more than you think. I think that’s the essence of mediation.

Anyway, what was I saying?

I suppose there is this rice thing still. That’s probably the one area I still need to smooth out in my life. I think I read something about Uncle Ben’s being racist as well, so maybe I could make some sort of political point through that. But I don’t know what. Ah, this is tough.

I tell you what, though, it does annoy me how the packets of microwave rice always say “serves 2” on the front. What does it expect me to do if I’m eating alone? You can’t microwave half the packet. And of course I’m eating alone – I’m eating microwave rice. If I could boil rice I’d probably have a girlfriend by now. Know your market Uncle Ben you racist prick. So now I’ve just got to eat twice as many carbs as I should be doing.

Eating double portions is how a lot of us got into this lonely mess.

God I’m lonely. Being single throughout this whole thing has been unbearable. Sometimes you just want someone to reassure you and…

Wait a second. I’m starting to feel sorry for myself again. Nice one! I can feel the creative juices flowing.

…I just need someone to say, “Eric you’re a little fitty”. I’m looking for that companionship I guess. I’m probably expecting too much from romance. I’m not just looking for a girl who’s one in a million; it’s like I’m waiting for a girl who’s a million things in one. I remember in my last relationship I said to my girlfriend, “Not only are you my lover, you’re my best friend” and she said, “Oh my best friend is Jenny, but it’s cool that those two things align for you.”

Hey, this is writing! I can do this. I feel sad, but I guess when you tap into your misery you can also tap into your creativity. And I haven’t even had to appropriate anyone else’s struggle to get some content out. I’m gonna go away and think about loneliness some more and write some jokes.

Anyway, that’s about it.

Cya x


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