My Life
- David J. Landers
Phase
I – Memories of a Year Ago
This time last year, I was
lying on the couch. Not the couches we have now, but our old couches that
belonged to my grandmother before she got new ones. I remember how
willing the couch seemed to suck in all the dust it could, like a black hole
for floating molecules of dirt. I was so cracked out on codeine that I didn’t
even care.
At this time of day a year
ago, my mom was getting me Jell-O. Her mid-day work breaks destroyed by the
cast on my ankle. Isn’t it incredible how much people will sacrifice for those
they care about? I would sacrifice my life for some people without a second
thought. I think most people would.
This time last year, my dad
sort of showed that he cared, but the idea of me walking was already
creeping into his mind. In a week, he’d be complaining that I wasn’t getting
anything done. I know he cares, but he has different priorities, just like
everyone else.
This time last year, I
realized that I had no need of a self-esteem. Enough
other people seemed to care that it became useless (not that I had much of one
before…). Why do so many people care about someone they barely even know? I
never let any of these people know the real me, except maybe my uncle
John and my sister Sarah. Perhaps my friends Sue and Carrie… Greg… But all the cards I received would
indicate that everyone knew and cared about the real me. Or were they
just pulling a "now-he-owes-me" sort of deal? Or maybe they care
about me and I just don’t understand why. That seems to happen a lot.
Phase
II – Superpowers
Have you ever had one of
those Sundays where you’re watching a football game, but your mind keeps
slipping in and out of reality? When you kind of know what’s going on,
but you keep zonking out every twenty or thirty
seconds? When you keep thinking that you are somewhere else besides this boring
couch, in front of this boring TV, with this boring pen and notebook, recording
your boring life? I’m having one of those days today.
The Bills are losing again
(shock shock). I guess it’s a good thing they’re not
my "team" anymore. I lost faith in them when they dumped Don Beebe.
Back in the day, I was such a huge Bills fan, it was kind of disgusting. I
would scream if they were losing, jump around when and if they actually got a
touchdown, and put on the replica Bills helmet I used to own while watching the
games.
What if I was a superhero?
I would kind of like to be able to fly away for a few days, or disappear into
seemingly thin air. Maybe air isn’t as thin as we think it is. If people can
disappear into it, it must be pretty friggin’ thick.
Superpowers or not, it can’t be easy.
If I were a superhero, I
bet I’d be a damn good football player. I’d make sure of it. And I’d kick the
Bills’ asses even worse than they get their asses kicked now. I’d join
Phase
III – Testimony of a Bug
The Universe is a pretty
big place. Think of the expanses. If the stars we see at night are bigger than
the sun, how far away do they have to be? What is past the stars that we do
see? Are there more stars that are just too far away, or is that where heaven
starts?
It’s said that the Earth is
smaller than the Sun. I’m smaller than the Earth and the insects that I crunch
beneath my shoes are even smaller than I am. If you really think about it, we
are all kind of pathetic compared to most other things that are out there. I
mean, how enormous could our problems be when there’s an entire universe out
there for the creator to worry about? I just don’t think he would make only one
little important planet in all of creation. Earth is just one more little ball
of rock floating around in the dark vastness of outer space. One more little
ball, and that’s it. Just one more bug that the creator has
to be careful to not step on by accident.
Phase
IV – Slap in the Face
Sometimes, when you are
just sitting there and aren’t expecting it, life smacks you in the face, or
upside the head, or behind the knees, and you finally either wake up, or get a
headache, or fall flat on your face and/or your ass. You just realize,
"this blows, dude…"
You’ll never be an
astronaut. You’ll never be a rock star. Hell, you’ll probably never even be
famous. Famous people are either criminals or fakes, and somehow you realize
this now. You come out of your dream world and see that life has finally taught
you its lesson. It is in command, not you. Perhaps the car lets you
steer every once in a while, but somehow, it always ends up back on its
original course.
Can you shrink any lower
than the moment when you finally see that there perhaps is no light?
Even if there is, it’s so far away that you feel you could never possibly reach
it. So there you sit in the middle of this pitch-black tunnel, looking out at
the rest of this pitch-black world, and you cry.
Phase
V – The World As It Is…
Every once in a while, you
just have to accept things the way they are. Be content for once, you
disgusting baby… How could things possibly be as hard as you try to make them
seem? You make me want to puke sometimes.
There is so much to see,
do, feel, touch, taste. There are so many experiences out there that you have
never experienced and probably never will, but life is full of choices. We
choose which road to follow. If, like Frost, we take the road less taken, we’ll
make tracks of our own for eyelid-sewn bastards to feel their way along.
There are tons of people,
such as those mentioned above, that are determined to leach off of everything
you say and do. There will always be ticks and leeches. They’ll suck the
lifeblood from your body, and drain your energy ounce by ounce. You have to
learn to live with them somehow, so get over it now before you have a
mental breakdown. I’m just curious… Is it wrong to call yourself pathetic, even
if it can sometimes be true?
Phase
VI – Cloud Cover
What’s with this cloud
covering the entirety of downtown
I’ve been on an airplane
before, so I know what it’s like to see the inside of a cloud through a glass
barrier. It’s actually one of the strangest feelings I have ever had. You can
feel gravity pulling you down toward the floor a little bit more firmly, and
you are suddenly surrounded by a world of white. You wonder, "Is this
really what a polar bear playing in the snow during a blizzard looks
like?" Probably not, but I’ve never seen a polar bear playing in the snow
during a blizzard before, so I guess I wouldn’t know…
Traveling through the fog
has a way of making you see life in a different way. You may realize that life
is one big cloud. You can’t clearly see what is to come. There is, of course, a
vague outline of possible occurrences before you, but if life were cloudless,
it would be way too boring.
Phase
VII – Meltdown
Such a strange night of
running around… If only I could rest for a day, life would be so much easier.
The light inside me wanes, but I will it back. Sometimes, that’s all you can
do. We are what we make ourselves.
My eyes flutter open and
closed, but the eyes behind them have been closed for a while. Blinded mind…
You do what you must to prevent a complete meltdown. Caffeine… Thrash Music…
Bright light on your face… You hope and pray that it will work so that you
don’t have to explain your own stupidity to someone who looks down on you
anyway. You stayed out too late with your friends over the weekend, of course,
but the real problem is the number of pointless things you committed
yourself to. Why do you always spread yourself so thin?
I think I’m ready to melt
down right now…