Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Introduction
I find myself waking to the same questions I had the night before. What the fuck am I doing with my life? I drag myself out of bed and put on my robe. Here I am sitting on the couch with AC/DC pajama bottoms, a tee-shirt, a white robe (which I stole from a hotel), and a camel light cigarette slowly burning. Twenty-four years young with the whole world at my disposal and this is what I do. A walking cliche of my generations lost youth; wasting away without a single contribution. It has been a long time since I can honestly say that I am proud of myself. I'm an habitual liar. I practically lie to everyone I meet. I lie about what I do for a living. I lie about my college education. I just fucking lie. Why would I want to say that I sit around all day? Why would I want to say that I go out every other night and score a meaningless fuck at the local watering hole? Why would I say that I have no job, no money, and I live with a woman who is eleven years older than me that I don't really like. I am a man full of ambition and dreams; mostly on the artistic side of things. I briefly did a stint at two community colleges and film school. I have quite the natural knack of not finishing what I started. I actually directed a short horror film and a short film that was submitted into a festival. I look around and a lot of my friends have their lives in order. They have steady girlfriends, double dates, kids, wives, houses, good jobs, nice cars, and all these things make me sick to my stomach. I can't put on a uniform and blindly march to a scripted death. What a lackluster life! At some point maybe I'll see the light. A beautiful girl enters my life and sweeps me off my feet. We get married and acquire a house with a picket fence. Than the babies come popping out like a can of Pringles. My life could turn out to be a mediocre romantic comedy.
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3 comments:
Why do people always assume that having a house and a family makes you some kind of robot? I’ve never understood it, and yet I’m sure I was the same way before I knew better. I have a family and a house (though I rent the house and never married my boyfriend). My brain didn’t fall out with the placenta. Some people are sheeple and some aren’t. A good job or college education won’t change that. At least not usually...
I suppose it's the idea behind the house and children. The ultimate american dream which is all the same. You are right it is based on the individual and that alone.
lackluster? Someone's never been around children. Don't get me wrong I love how poignant your blog is. But I guess what prompts me to presume that and make this comment is the same reason why Alana commented. But hey I think it's ironic that a lot of people call the prosaic American dream something that is too dull to become something of the individual. I mean, isn't it already a common thought that the dream of a house and a happy family is "lackluster"? Then again who is to dictate what makes an individual and what makes a conformist... god what does that word even stand for anymore. Either way you remind me of a distressed Holden Caulfield and I think it's a little depressing that your life is a reality and some people really live in emotional shit holes. Good luck with you.
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