Sunday, January 23, 2011
When I spent the majority of my youth as a single stud sizing up the ladies but never quite getting any, I would always end up wishing I could have just one girl and I would be forever content. Forget the dreams of double digits and threesomes and fourgys; just one girl to have and to hold. But then once I get the one girl I imagined myself restricted, bound by this ball and chain. I could have my way with any girl I wanted. “Yeah, I’d still fuck her”s, 10/10 models with footballer boyfriends and everything in between; they could all be mine!! Somehow I can’t imagine that if I were single my love life would regress back into the abyss of loneliness and youporn on the family computer at 3am every Saturday.
Nervous = Nervous
When I have to make a speech or presentation I get nervous. What if my hands start to shake? My heart races and my breathing approaches hyperventilation. My stomach turns its contents to liquid like a trick staircase that suddenly becomes a slippery slide and I feel the need to sit on the toilet while small acidic droplets of brown green- actually we don’t need to go there. These symptons all spiral into shaky hands. Then when my hands shake I begin to get more nervous. This process is compounded exponentially until my entire being is consumed into a black hole fear and self loathing. This continues for a few weeks and then the teacher says, “Next speech will be by…Eden Clarke.”
Turn it up, I love this song!*
When I’m in the car listening to some Classic Rock 95.3FM it is usually because I feel like a varied change to my well known iPod. It’s usually a mix of cool songs I never heard, Midnight Oil, U2, bunch of 70s and so on. Then I stop to get some petrol. I fill up the car, pay, walk back to the car and turn on the ignition.
*The Eiffel Tower and the Taj Mahal are mine to see on clear days*
(Whining voice) “Oh no! They are playing I Can See For Miles and I missed the first half of the song. That’s so annoying. Wah.”
(Mocking sarcastic voice) “Wait! I know. Put your fucking iPod on and listen to it from the start! Fucking idiot.”
(Why is everybody) Look(ing) at me!(?)
Like most westernized folk I have some inner drive to be famous and to stand out. I want to be recognized as unique and new and fresh and cool and different and awesome. When I see someone else do it I feel jealous and want to be them. Then when I actually do something unique, different. cool, et al, I get self conscious and think everybody is looking at me like I am some kind of weirdo. I feel the desperate need to find somebody who is in the same position as me so we can bear the brunt of society’s silent judgment together. Maybe if we find a whole crowd of people like us we can blend in anonymously and not have to bear any brunt and then no one can- Shit look at that guy’s cool T-shirt! I wish I had been cool enough to try something different like that.
*A cousin to this example is watching a movie on TV even though I own it on DVD which has no commercial breaks.