'My name is Fez; I first became famous in October of last year.
It was then that the above article was written, about how an Atlanta-area "interior decorator" discovered me and paid nearly four thousand dollars to have me lounge around his house, wearing my favorite hat, smoking a briar pipe...'
I thought this an appropriate inaugural micro-post, because I've been thinking lately how much I feel like this monkey. How much we all might feel like this monkey. Us who have so recently left school, feeling somehow overvalued, unable to live up to the expectations so confidently thrust upon us by the world. Like Fez's . . . fez, it seems sometimes I've put on a costume, that I'm only dressed to look the part, a suave capuchin monkey, legs casually crossed, indulging in a relaxing smoke that no doubt hides some swelling anxiety within. I wonder when I will feel the facade matches the person inside. I wonder when I will feel as badass as I look on a day-to-day basis.
Perhaps that's impossible.
Fez
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