In effort not to become, or at least remain, the blogger guy who does sad all day, I’ve purposely worn a lens since yesterday’s poem looking for something…different, to write about. Over the years I’ve written tons and to be honest at least half of it is sad. I think when I’m happy I just be that and try to hang on. When I’m not happy, I think, I like to create as a way to hide from it or purge it or whatever. And back in the day all I’d have to do is like a girl who I knew wouldn’t like me back “that way” and just sort of persevere for only like a handful of years and have reams of sad-sack literary purging to work on. Sigh, the lovelorn hopeless romantic embracing the unrequited platitudes as muses. Adorable, me.
So I think this post will be a two day affair but depending on what the next 24 hours brings I’m not sure when part 2 will come. Probably tomorrow but you can always hold out hope for inspiration to hit in-between blogs. Today’s post I have broken off from a larger idea. I will hit on the heart of that in part two. Today I will just start with the beginning of the whole story.
If you couldn’t tell already, I was an odd kid. Creative. Artistic. Totally edgy, dude. Ha. Anyways, for about 3 years I fell into the notion that my whole life was actually just some form of entertainment for…someone? Everyone? God? Just that I was being watched. Center of the universe. Yes, I admit to my long standing narcissistic tendencies. Totally. I told people about it. Friends. Family. And then one day I was watching tv at my grandma’s and a preview for Peter Weir’s The Truman Show came on. Dude. I lost it. Called a bunch of people. Freaked. Out. If you’re not familiar, Jim Carrey plays a man who, unbeknownst to him, has lived his life since birth as the star of a global phenomenon reality tv show set inside a gigantic dome replicating a small town. So basically my whole weird thing. More on the universe stealing my brilliance and my doing nothing before this mental larceny goes down in part two of this amazing piece of whatever it is.
But the Truman Show thing still seeps in sometimes. This is the point in my revelation where I always say what I am about to say to all of you, my legion adoring blog fans: I know you’re in on it. I mean, if it’s real, of course. Good actors, all of you – living your lives so mine could be so entertaining. Also – thanks! Loving this “entertaining” soap opera life. Ugh. Maybe less obvious villainous stock characters from time to time, but that’s just a small critique.
By now is the time when most rational, sentient beings think I’m crazy, and that’s not this blog post, but I will just ask that you see it how I do. For instance, and I swear this is real, every actual watch with gears I buy, regardless of how expensive or cheap, quickly gets slow or fast or otherwise loses its ability to do what its sole purpose is. (So if I am a Truman Show guy maybe get them to hook me up with a watch that works longer than 2 weeks) I am very careful with cell phones and use them for way less than almost anyone I know and every time one dies it is always of mysterious causes. Always. Beyond that there have been just so many out of nowhere life-rhythm car crashes that invade my bubble that are just sooooo strange. I’m sure many of you feel the same, it’s just, you know, center of the universe ego eddie. Plus it’s my blog so get you a slice and judge away.
The Truman Show picture I attached to this post was once my facebook profile picture thing because what better way to sum up your whole essence in this day and age than a pic that encapsulates it all. It was one of two passive-aggressive movie stills I used to express my feelings over that whole thing. So deep. Ugh. I remember using it one day when I felt I was especially comfortable with, and over, my then-pending divorce. Silly is one word you could use to describe that, looking back. I was not those things. The actual divorce happened somewhere between 2-4 years ago (I remember it was cold out, time is tricky) and this was before even that. I wasn’t even able to string more than 2 days of non-self-loathing together until about 18 months ago. See, the picture is of Carrey as Truman finally figuring out that he is trapped in this non-existence and finally gets both the enlightenment to comprehend, and courage to face, the unknown world beyond the strictures of the walls which always bound him. To me that image became iconic. It makes me feel anxious and lacking and excited and wistful for a future not yet realized. And that (I think) will be explained(ish) in part 2.