Blog 57: What's Blog Got to Do with It?
Monday, March 28, 2005
I ask you, great unknown virtual universe, when does it get easier? You contain all the wisdom of man and almost all the porn, you must have some insight. Is it when you find yourself? Is it when you find your soul mate? Is it when you're married and old and your kids are all out of the house and you sit on your back porch some humid July evening listening to The Jayhawks and drinking lemonade? Is it when you're dead, having buried the best parts of your life with your spouse? Does it ever get easy at all?
I've been here on this big spinning reality show called Earth now for almost a quarter of a century. If I manage to live to my generation's average life expectancy that means I've used up 1/3 of my tokens in the skee ball game of life. So far I keep sinking the balls into the bottom ring, and I have no tickets. I look around me and sometimes I feel like I chose to play on league night, as friends and family set off life's bells and sirens and seem to have piles of tickets with more being spit out all the time.
Obscure carnival metaphors aside; I feel like I'm dying. Not in the illness sense but in the way a hooker dies the first time she makes a businessman pay an extra $50 for the cigar burns. Graphic, I know. But this town is a leech on my lifeblood. I dream, DREAM! about loving life like I think I can. I dream about a little old house on a quiet street, with a nice yard and lots of house plants and doorways that arch and hardwood floors. I dream of this house being occupied by people sitting on couches and tables talking and laughing, the smell of barbecue wafting through the back porch screen. Great music on the stereo. A beautiful girl in my lap with her arms wrapped in my arms. I dream of dates. I dream of finding a picture in a drawer and laughing at the memories that come with it. I dream of two tooth brushes by the sink, two pillows with different pillowcases. Cold feet on my side of the bed. I dream of being in love again. I dream of the work it takes to get there, and the realization that you've made it when you're both sitting quietly reading and it's ok that you're not talking or going downtown or worrying what the other's thinking. I dream of kids. I dream of being part of a team that shapes and molds another life into a good person by our example. I dream of two pairs of teeth in glasses on the night table. I dream that those events will be possible soon. That I won't have to sift through one failed attempt after another to get there. I've been on the cusp of for better for worse before and I don't know if I have it in me to play duck duck goose again.
I dream of all this, and I wake up alone, and far away, reaching for a woman who's name I don't know yet.
I've been here on this big spinning reality show called Earth now for almost a quarter of a century. If I manage to live to my generation's average life expectancy that means I've used up 1/3 of my tokens in the skee ball game of life. So far I keep sinking the balls into the bottom ring, and I have no tickets. I look around me and sometimes I feel like I chose to play on league night, as friends and family set off life's bells and sirens and seem to have piles of tickets with more being spit out all the time.
Obscure carnival metaphors aside; I feel like I'm dying. Not in the illness sense but in the way a hooker dies the first time she makes a businessman pay an extra $50 for the cigar burns. Graphic, I know. But this town is a leech on my lifeblood. I dream, DREAM! about loving life like I think I can. I dream about a little old house on a quiet street, with a nice yard and lots of house plants and doorways that arch and hardwood floors. I dream of this house being occupied by people sitting on couches and tables talking and laughing, the smell of barbecue wafting through the back porch screen. Great music on the stereo. A beautiful girl in my lap with her arms wrapped in my arms. I dream of dates. I dream of finding a picture in a drawer and laughing at the memories that come with it. I dream of two tooth brushes by the sink, two pillows with different pillowcases. Cold feet on my side of the bed. I dream of being in love again. I dream of the work it takes to get there, and the realization that you've made it when you're both sitting quietly reading and it's ok that you're not talking or going downtown or worrying what the other's thinking. I dream of kids. I dream of being part of a team that shapes and molds another life into a good person by our example. I dream of two pairs of teeth in glasses on the night table. I dream that those events will be possible soon. That I won't have to sift through one failed attempt after another to get there. I've been on the cusp of for better for worse before and I don't know if I have it in me to play duck duck goose again.
I dream of all this, and I wake up alone, and far away, reaching for a woman who's name I don't know yet.
Justin expelled a blog at 1:20 AM
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