What do you want out of life?
It's a question I keep asking myself. Over and over again it echoes in this vast wasteland I call my imagination. Every morning I wake up to the alarm on my phone and realize that I have to get up and go to a job that I hate. I shudder. I run my hands through my hair while I continuously lie on my back ignoring every passing minute that should be spent getting dressed; all the while I'm asking that question. What do you want out of life?
Money? Women? Parties?
Enticing these things may be they mean absolutely nothing to me. They'd be nice to have...perks of the job, so-to-speak, but that job sure as shit isn't Aaron's or Auto Value or Packaging Corporation of America; fuck that shit.
I'm an interesting case. I'm a nighthawk. I love being up all night. Writing, playing video games, watching stand-up specials on Netflix; whatever I can do to keep myself busy enough to stay up through the night...and yet...I love the sunrise. Those early morning hours, the churping birds, the school buses, the way the sun shines on the ground in a way so much different than it does in the late afternoon... But I can't stay up all night and keep my energy levels up high enough to enjoy how beautiful the morning is up until 11:59.
What do you want out of life?
I want those things. All of them. How can I get there? My creative writing?
I have yet to truly finish anything. At all. A few short stories, yes. But how about the various books I've started? Sitting on the proverbial shelf deep in the virus- and spyware-ridden harddrive of this piece of shit Dell laptop.
I can't tell you how many times I've written stories, scripts, poems and songs that I thought were good only to realize they're shit within twenty-four hours. Not because I don't have the talent, but because I don't have the focus. My mind isn't on what I'm doing and, worse yet, in the case of this webisode series that I was a part of up until those who I worked with on it decided to stop communicating with me, I'll speed write an episode and consider it good. Not because I really think so, but because I truly feel that it's good enough for me. Unacceptable.
I finally feel like I have focus. This book, on the surface, is about love. It's about a man in love with his friend's girlfriend, but with a few added twists and turns. Nothing radical; just enough to make the story that much more original. However, beneath that superficial surface lies the true story. It's about longing for something you feel is completely out of reach. For me, this book is about my future (or lack thereof).
I'm like any other young(ish) American. I want the money, I want the women, I want the parties. Hell, throw in a few drugs here and there. But what I really want is that magic word, that enabler, that true American feelings. What I really want is freedom.
But I'm afraid. For all the passion I feel for this story, for all the anger I have with myself for never following through on anything I have started there stands before me one thing. One thing that could end my hopes and longing for freedom forever. Indifference.
I'm indifferent to this world for a variety of reasons. Even more troubling is I can't even begin to explain those reasons. All I know is that they are there impeding my march towards glory. Towards freedom. Towards happiness.
Yet, ironically, the only thing that can cure me of this indifference is the very freedom it blocks me from. I hate where I am because of where I want to be. I can't be where I want to be because of where I am. I am trapped.
I am trapped in a job I can't stand with people I only barely get along with. I am trapped in a city that sits in just the perfect spot to tease me with beautiful weather two months out of the year only to dump that wretched white powder that I hate right on to my head throughout the rest of it. I am trapped in a world where everybody who knows me thinks little of me for who I was or who I pretended to be way back when. And I hate them for it. I want out of this cage, I want my fucking freedom.
I will have it. I will accomplish something. I will be who I know I can be. Not a believer? Watch me.