MONOLOGUE 004: Accidents Happy
Sometimes life throws you curveballs. Sometimes those curveballs disfigure your cheekbones.
I’ve rebranded.
Yes, yes, it’s awfully early in this newsletter to be rebranding, but you’re forgetting that time does not exist in a linear manner for me. Monologue 004 for you is Monologue 396 for me.
That’s in dog years too.
It’s getting to the point where I’m seeing myself in a new light, and by association, this newsletter. Of course, this doesn’t mean jack shit for my procrastination problem. Or, maybe it does.
A lot of the last few months have occurred in a string of happy accidents; getting rejected from two jobs only to find a new one 3 hours before it closed. Missing my bus every single day of the first week of the said new job, only to have the late bus work in my favour for once on the day it matters. Chancing a trip to Tesco on the belief that I had five pounds to spare only to find out that I actually had a generous six.
The smallest conveniences have been altering my brain chemistry in a way that excites my senses into impulsivity. Like now, for instance, in which the words you’re reading are being written on a whim at 01.00 a.m in the morning.
We’ve seen this before. In fact, my last three newsletters were founded on this fleeting chemical reaction. And that’s not to say that there is no strategy to this, because there is, but strategy, like all things creative, live within the realm of accidental ideas.
We interrupt this program for a quick strategy lesson:
Brands are built on problems and solutions. without either, they exist solely as white noise. If you take a brand that recognises a problem and offers a solution to a consumer, they’ll be happy at that moment. But then, after a hot minute, they cease to give a fuck, because that solution doesn’t factor in happy accidents.
Happy accidents are moments of coincidence. They’re usually convenient to the accidentee and often provide hindsight. If I hadn’t gone to Tesco, I wouldn’t have realised I had more money. If I tried to change the route I take to work every day, I would have missed my conveniently on-time bus. Happy accidents surround things that come full circle. when brands factor in the full circle experience that a consumer might have in facing this problem, the solution goes from a moment of reprieve to a lifetime of convenience.
Strategy can’t function without the odd happy accident. Life in itself can’t function without a happy accident.
So yes, I do indeed have a strategy. But, as I mentioned in my analogy above, I am a harbinger of happy accidents. I love them, they fill in plot holes and create smaller details out of bigger worlds.
So my strategy is the happy accident. The moments in which I realise something so ahah inspiring that I can’t help but write about it.
Things that work are not (always) facts. In some cases, they’re happenstance. The everyday exists in this idea of happenstance. Waking up, eating food, thinking thoughts, all of these things revolve around chance, and the more we allow chance to take its course, the happier one would be.
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