Dreaming Of Going Viral

Rude Awakening

The flaw of attraction

It was one of those rough mornings where the rent was due and the only thing standing between me and a seaside mansion was a few viral stories and a pipe dream.

I had a decision to make. Write the next major viral story on Medium or just write another 900 clapper that would pull in 2 dollars and change.

I could write the next virulent, virile, viral Prepare For The Ultimate Gaslighting by Julio Vincent Gambuto. Just click on his piece above, grab a drink, count the claps, curtsies, and comments, and dream that you too can get lucky one day.

Or maybe write the next Why Elon Musk Fired His Long-Term Assistant Who Asked for A Raise by S M Mamunur Rahman which earned $19,000. No need to beg for a paltry ko-fi coffee on the bottom of this viral bonanza!

Or I could stick to business as usual and write a respectable poem or satire that will get a respectable amount of traffic and buy me a respectable roll of toilet paper.

I, of course, opted to go viral.

I had been doing a lot of homework lately on how to write virally, learning from the best.

I read, reread, and read again classics from the field such as Sabana Grande’s How to Make $1000 per Month on Medium Naturally and Without Any Drugs and David B. Clear’s How to Make Your First $1,000 by Exploiting Aspiring Writers.

And yet, the secret recipe of success somehow still seemed to elude me.

So I grabbed a copy of Rhonda Byrne’s famous Law Of Attraction classic, The Secret.

I took this fiercely realistic book about making millions of dollars merely by dreaming, sat on the toilet in my tiny one-bedroom apartment in the city, and dreamt for a good one hour about walking around in a great big mansion on the peaceful, quiet seaside, as I completed my number two.

I was very careful not to rush the opening of my eyes as I got up from the toilet, so I could keep imagining the seaside even as I flushed the toilet, imagining the swirling waters to be the slow moving waves of the ocean tide.

I was careful not to lose my composure as I bumped into the sink in my tiny closet-sized bathroom when turning around to wash my hands. I then slowly washed my hands with my sea shell shaped soap that smelled of lavender.

Then, like a monk transported into some heavenly meditation realm, I closed my eyes again and floated into my living room/kitchen, banging into my desk/kitchen table, all the while keeping that seaside image fixed in my mind.

I dreamt I rattled off ten viral stories in a row with over one million claps and comments, earning me well over six figures. The tide got louder and I even thought I could smell the sea.

I thought, any minute now, this little excuse for an abode will turn into the seaside mansion of my dreams, just as Rhonda Byrne promises in her book. I wasn’t sitting at my desk/kitchen table, I told myself, I was sitting on top of the world.

I tuned out my neighbor’s loud music from the adjoining apartment, masterfully refraining from screaming can you turn that crap down?

I instead pretended to myself this was not bad music, but was instead the cries of seagulls and children’s laughter at the sea.

As Rhonda Byrne insists, it is about insanely aggressive repetition. Just dream and dream and dream and it will all come true.

After another hour of this, I slowly opened my eyes.

You’re not going to believe this, but I was still faced with the same crappy little living room/kitchen with loud bad music blaring next door.

I got up and screamed, CAN YOU TURN THAT FUCKING SHIT OFF?

And so my meditation session came to an end.

© Carlo Zeno 2022

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Thanks for reading, and thank you to Muddyum for providing this space for satire.

Also, I recommend all of the Medium pieces referenced in this story, as they are very good. The only thing I don’t recommend in this piece is Rhonda Byrne’s book.

Lastly, as I am unsure if this piece will be my groundbreaking launch into virtual virality, I will leave my donation cup for you here. Thanks for your support. 🙏