There it is. The phone is staring at me telling me to pick it up but I won't. "I will do it later," I think to myself as I look at the clock. It's the same time it was when I looked at ten seconds ago. It feels that time is going backwards because I said I would call at five. Originally it was two and two fifteen and two thrity and now I find myself in a place that if I don't do it now, it will be just another excuse that I've given one too many times. I don't want that anymore. The excuses. The reasons that prevent me from focusing on the now. The right fucking now.
I have six minutes right now to turn back. The path behind me is long...dark...and cold and it's just in front of me. The light.
The phone rings, hoping it is the call that I am so scared to make. I am not so lucky. It is just a friend seeing what I'm doing, not knowing the conflict that I'm in. I still look at the clock and now the time is going faster. I don't get you time. Why are you fucking with me? You are some old retired frat boy playing one last trick on a guy who's already having issues.
It's time. It's time to pull my balls back down. They are hidden. Hiding and I'm tired of hiding. I no longer want to stand in the shadow, being a famliar face with no name. That guy you walk by and think "Do I know that guy?" Anonymity is no longer in my dictionary. So here I come, ready or not.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
9 comments:
Dan,
You can call me anytime and you don't have to worry about it. I don't care what you have to say. As a matter of fact Dan, I think you could tell me anything in the world and I would still be your friend. Part of that is a lack of what I call "drama" in my life. You know what drama is. Drama is the snap your fingers in the face of the bitch that slept with your boyfriend confrontation. It is a phenomenon that pretty much encapsulates high school, college, and many offices. I could give a fuck. I find it hard to even listen to people's drama. It makes me feel like I'm watching a Lifetime movie. I don't need to hear that shit.
But the other and more important part is that you are my friend and I love you. I don't give a fuck what you have to say or how you say it, because I know who you are and that's all that I need. So go ahead and call me. Tell me that I'm an asshole and I should apologize to Brett (I won't. He is a dick and he deserved it. But I will call him and tell him that he is a dick if that is what will make you feel better.) Or tell me that you finger fucked my sister but you don't really want a relationship. It's fine old buddy. That's what friends are for. But you have to call me because I lost my cellular phone and therefore your phone number. I've got a new phone, and it has the same number, so go ahead and just make that call.
ok dan, i am confused. who were you suppose to call? I want answers!!
no answers....sory.
sorry about the vague post to everyone but I really wasn't writing it for everyone to read. I mean I guess I did since I publicly posted it but it's hard to explain. Sometimes things are hard to explain. I mean, I know this where I become very vague but it's my random thoughts coming out.
I'm alive for all of you that I haven't been staying in touch with very well. I have been surviving "THE DREAD" and will be done shortly so thank you to all who have kept me going...you know who you are and to those who think they have and haven't, you are in such denial.
this comment is only for those of you who know who you are to read. the rest of you, turn away and repent for your sins --- i mean, slam your fist down and call me an asshole
I have may suspicions as to what Dan is getting at here, but as he stated, it's somewhat vague. A guess is good if you are a prosecutor, but the rest of us must rely on facts. So I wont postulate.
I've made calls similar to this before, and when they have gone well the positive effects continue to last to this day. When they've gone poorly, I barely remember the rejection and or failures. The fear of rejection and failure in any arena is normally vastly overblown. I would suggest that if any possible rejection results in anything less than someone literally cutting your testicals off, then the fear of failure is unwarranted.
In other words: If it's not going to kill you then just fucking do it already. If it doesn't workout, in five years, you'll probably not even remember the failure.
I just remembered a great concept for a book that I had in college. I obviously never wrote it, or ever even started it. But I just remembered it, and I think that it's not too far off. You see, the changes in the world over the last 10 years since I thought of this book idea have made it's predictions, while not any more likely or feasible, much more understandable, much more believable.
Sorry about the random post, just thought I would share. I'm sure that a movie depicting the basic premises of my entire idea will be hitting theaters this winter for your Christmas viewing pleasure.
Dave, keep the posts coming. We've missed you At the Corner Bar.
intriguing....
Post a Comment