Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
If I could give tension a name I know what it would be.
Sometimes hope kills. Hope forces you to think about what you want and then reminds you that it is up to you to get it.
I'm not your typical Canadian, but like most people I am a professional witness. I have succumbed to the urge to blend in with the herd and hide from my life. Just another member of the studio audience. Here's my place, row 6 billion, seat b. I'm the kind of guy who'll be on the jury when another guy like me gets prosecuted for shooting some other guy like me for sleeping with a woman like me (in that she has a similar personality, not that I'm a woman).
Being weak and human we choose to be crowds, audiences, and juries. Eventually the weaker of us, like me are willing to leave it at that. Then we finely craft our fantasies. Fantasies are perfect because there is no chance of failure, you can't lose, get hurt, feel embarrassed, suffer a broken heart. The problem lies in that what you get in exchange for your fantasies is something warped, distorted and uglier than a pair of ugly twins.
Isn't this what you wanted, well it doesn't matter because its what you settled for. It looks back at you, shrugs its shoulders and says "what, you were expecting maybe santa claus?"
Half the time I feel like I'm walking in a chain gang across 1000 miles of desert. The sun is roasting my hunched shoulders as I trudge along with a sprained ankle, strangulated testicle and suspicion that this isn't the best life has to offer. I trudge along wondering why I would choose this for myself. I'd like to blame someone else, even you, but I have no one to blame for my life but me.
As I trudge along I occasionally stop thinking about my rubbery steps and throbbing scrotum for long enough to dream that someone will come along and snap me out of this trance. My 1000 mile march along with the rest of the chumps will be a memory to laugh about. And so I wait for the voice that will re open my eyes to the world and help me see past the day to day bullshit.
But there is no voice like that, it doesn't work that way. You have to snap yourself out of the trance, you hypnotized yourself when you first started compromising your desires with your fears.
Then there's the other half of the time when I feel like everything is right and time is wide. And sometimes, I don't know how or why but I feel 8 years old and awestruck at the world. I never see it coming, but the sun will catch someone or something in motion and for a few seconds I don't hear anything. Somehow it can seem like there is so much potential and not enough time to even appreciate one billionth of it all.
My friends and family, as unbelievably annoying as they can be are here to share this potential with me, as unbelievably annoying as I'm told I can be. Whether or not it loves me back, I still care about this funny floppy world and several of its goofy people.
What I need to do is learn how to think that way all the time. To get over myself and my pointless fears. It's gonna be hard, I'll need the strength of the incredible hulk and the endurance of, I don't know, superman? But it's possible.
If I figure it out I guess I'll be the happiest man alive. That sounds realistic.