My life has turned into a pathetic waste of space. I don't think that what I am doing right now is what I was meant to do. I work at a job that I am indifferent about. I show up for 8 hours a day and do what is required of me. No more, no less. I don't know what I want to do with my life, but I certainly know that this isn't it. When I punch out, I go home, throw together some dinner, then lay on the couch and watch TV. Then I go to sleep and do it all again the next day. It's incredibly boring, but to be quite honest with you, I really don't feel like doing anything at all right now. It could be because of the weather, which forces me to stay home and keep warm. When I watch TV, I am snuggled underneath and electric blanket, and Coach Gordon Bombay (my cat) snuggles up on top of me or beside me. So it's not all bad because I am warm and hanging out with my BFF - best friend forever (really more like my OFF - only friend forever). I don't have the will to work on this blog or my website, both of which are really suffering because of lack of recent content. And I don't feel like calling up a friend or a family member to hang out. I just don't feel like doing anything. Normally I am ok with being a pathetic waste of space, but now my conscience is nagging at me to do something with my life. I'm closing in on 30 (in 2 more years) and my life is just as retarded as it was 10 years ago. Only then I was 18 years old with my whole life in front of me. Now I'm just some 27 year old who thinks that his big break in life is going to come on the opposite end of a Bpong table shooting 40 mm ping pong balls into 16 oz plastic cups. And I have this ridiculous notion that a silly documentary is going to make me a star and I can quit my stupid job and tour the country playing beer pong. Oh, and I become a semi-professional athlete in the process and make dollars off of sponsorships. But wait, there's more! I'm putting all of my eggs in that basket so if that doesn't pan out, I'm screwed. So I sit at the computer and make shit up and wait until the day all of that happens.While I'm at work I'm filled with excitement about what I'm going to do when I get home, and start making lists of projects that I'm going to complete, but then then couch sucks the life out of me. It's like an unholy beast sent from hell do deter God's plan for me. Simon Birch called himself an instrument of God. If I am in fact an instrument of God, then God must be playing the wrong notes. Or God might be being one-upped by this mystical life-sucking couch. Hard to believe that God is being bested by a davenport that folds out to a bed, but then I realize that God has bigger and better things to do then to smite a davenport. But if I get home and my couch is a smoldering pile of ash, then I'll know that God's will has been done and he's telling me to get off my ass and do something. It's funny that only only an act of God could get me to give up on creating the perfect ass-grove in my hand me down davenport. Because at this moment in my life there is nothing else that can separate my rump from those cushions.
It sucks because everyone else around me is growing up, getting married, starting families, working sweet-ass jobs, having life experiences, and I'm not doing jack shit. I have my 10 year High School Reunion coming up in October of this year, and I'm hesitant to go because I haven't done shit with my life in the last 10 years that I would consider to be worthy enough to brag about to people who were better than me 10 years ago, and probably are better than me today. The worst part about it is that I realize this, yet I do nothing to change my current situation. I expect change to happen to me on its own and that it is not necessary for me to put in the time and the effort. So I really am a pathetic waste of space. But that thought won't deter me from going home, mixing a nice stiff drink, then sitting on the couch watching TV until I fall asleep. I'd hate to say that I've given up on life, but it's starting to look that way. I feel like my best years are behind me and I've lost out on the opportunities to change my life for the better. So I'm doomed to end up as another nameless faceless dude in the crowd and fade off into the night. That is unless someone out there realizes that this Iceman character is pretty sweet and they want to throw some dollars his way. I'm not begging or anything, but a little somethin' somethin' wouldn't hurt. I'm just saying. Help a brotha out man.
So that's how I feel today. And that's kind of who I've felt all year so far. I know it's about 58 days into the year so far, and there are still 307 days left, but so far 2009 has been a total disappointment. But I always get a little depressed in the winter, and usually the only thing that can cheer me up in the return of baseball. Pitchers and catchers report to Spring Training on February 13th! So heads up Iceman, better things await! You have a whole new year of Brewers baseball to look forward to. At least that'll be a good thing to watch while sitting on the couch, right? There I go again, trying to rationalize my current livelihood. As long as I can make it seem ok, I can sleep easier at night. But I sleep easier at night when I pass out sitting up on my couch with my contacts still in. Which kind of happens more often than not. That couch is sucking my will to live, and it's only a matter of time before I do something about it. Hopefully that day is tomorrow. But knowing me, I'm going to spend my life hoping for tomorrow.
And I succumb to it's demonic powers. It appears that I am just not strong enough (or one with God enough) to resist the evil temptation. But even today the couch will not stop. It's an unholy demon hellbent on causing me long lasting fatigue and regret. So while I lie on the couch, injustices are happening to the people of unjust nations, the poor continue being poor, the hungry keep starving and the helpless are not being helped. It's sad but true. And to think that I could stop it all by getting my no-good keyster off of the couch and stand up to all of the hate and suffering and put it right back where it belongs. Every night I come home with grand ambitions of how I will change the world, and the couch beckons for me to lay on it and forget about those world changing ideas. But I don't and I won't, because my ass groove in the couch will not form itself, and as I watched him on the stage my hands were clenched in fists of rage. No angel born in hell, could break that Satan's spell. And as the flames climbed high into the night to light the sacrificial rite, I saw Satan laughing with delight, the day the music died. Bye bye Ms. American Pie indeed. Touche Don McLean, touche. Sad but true. That guy knew exactly what I am talking about.
Rage against the davenport my friends. Rage on! Rage until you can't rage anymore. And maybe someday we can fight this evil demon. We shall band together as one in a final battle of Good vs. Evil, and at the end of the day, Good shall triumph! That day shall come; the prophesies have foretold that glory. But until that day arises, we shall quietly wait for the coming of the Savior of couch dwelling. Who knows who that may be or when he shall come, but await his presence dear friends. He shall come, and when does, the davenports of the world will erupt in flames and they shall be sent back to hell where they belong! And your asses shall be free of their captive clutches. Fear not my friends, for that day shall come. Any day now, that day shall come. Until then - watch out for your behind, and await the coming of he who shall save you!
Rage against the davenport my friends. Rage on! Rage until you can't rage anymore. And maybe someday we can fight this evil demon. We shall band together as one in a final battle of Good vs. Evil, and at the end of the day, Good shall triumph! That day shall come; the prophesies have foretold that glory. But until that day arises, we shall quietly wait for the coming of the Savior of couch dwelling. Who knows who that may be or when he shall come, but await his presence dear friends. He shall come, and when does, the davenports of the world will erupt in flames and they shall be sent back to hell where they belong! And your asses shall be free of their captive clutches. Fear not my friends, for that day shall come. Any day now, that day shall come. Until then - watch out for your behind, and await the coming of he who shall save you!
- pookon -
email : pookondotcom@gmail.com
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