Have you heard of the Man Repeller Writers Club? Every month we pose a story idea, you write about it and then send it to us (firstname.lastname@example.org) with the subject line “MR Writers Club.” We go through all submissions and post the winner on the first Saturday of every month. Ready? Let’s go.
We can say we don’t give a fuck or want to not give a fuck, but to commit to that mindset completely would be ill-advised. Sometimes, we give up our subway seats even though sitting feels really nice. We show up even if we don’t want to because follow-through is part of the life deal. We put ourselves to bed at a reasonable hour before work because we’re paid to be reliable. We put on pants, we clean our bathtubs, we say things nicely, we do our jobs, we brush our teeth because we give a shit. Each act of care is a deposit into being a functioning member of society. In the long run, it pays off.
But you know that feeling you get when, at the last second, without considering the consequences, you decide to skip class? I remember it vividly; it’s like a jolt of dopamine straight to the veins. What feels better than fuck it? It’s like freedom flooding your bloodstream. It’s particularly potent when employed in unlikely scenarios, maybe a little last minute, probably against your better judgement. Fuck it, I’m snoozing again. Fuck it, I’m going braless. Fuck it, I’m going to just show up uninvited. Fuck it, I’m just going to say it! Maybe it’s impulsive, maybe it’s exactly what you needed.
August is SO WHAT month on Man Repeller. In celebration of that, this month’s prompt involves a whole bunch of fuck its. Tell me about a whole day of not caring. What would you do? What might happen as a result? It’s not a long-term plan, it might even be a little irresponsible, but it’s only 24 hours. It’s only one day.
In 500 words or less, explore who you are under all those filters. What happens in your world of total, unadulterated freedom? Send your story to email@example.com by Tuesday, August 29th at 12 p.m. EST with the subject line “MR Writers Club,” and let me live vicariously.
Photos by Bettmann and H. Armstrong Roberts via Getty Images. Collage by Louisiana Mei Gelpi.