My inner critic earns a pathetic “C”

August 8, 2013 § 4 Comments

“You’re not good enough,” I told my inner critic. “And you will never amount to anything.”

“Wait, what?”  She cried. “ I’ve been doing my job, calling you a hack and stuff.”

“A hack and stuff,” I repeated. “What are you, fourteen? My friend Dawn has the most awesome inner critic.  Her critic quotes Rumi when she tells Dawn how bad she is, and uses complicated phrases and lovely metaphors and verbal gymnastics. Which is probably why Dawn jumped off a bridge yesterday. Sadly she took her inner critic with her. I wanted that magnificent beast for myself. Instead I have you. Trite, hackneyed, ineloquent you.”

“I can make you jump off a bridge!”

“You could not make me jump off a doghouse. You are simply a terrible inner critic, your work means nothing and you might as well just give up.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong, I really try to criticize you and tear you down! What happened to our beautiful relationship?”

“I don’t know. It used to be so natural. To talk about forever. But used-to- be’s don’t count anymore. They just lay on the floor til we sweep them away.”

“That’s beautiful,” murmured my inner critic.

“That’s Barbara Streisand and Neil Diamond, idiot!” I screamed. “You don’t deserve to be in the murky radioactive seawater of my hindbrain or in the bottom of my glass of straight tequila. Your insults are as weak and flabby as the colon of a dead squid.  Why don’t you spend a few days with my mother? Maybe you’ll learn something.”

“That’s just mean,” said my inner critic.

“Go away,” I said. “I have to write.”

She leaned in close and whispered, “This is all a cruel façade. None of the men from the pool of twenty-five will love you after the cameras have stopped rolling, and at least half of them are gay.”

“Wow,” I said. “Channeling the latest Bachelorette’s inner critic. You are getting desperate.”


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