Realism and you

Hope. I'd like to talk for a minute about hope. Hope is what everybody thinks you should have. Hope and a positive attitude. You don't even need anything else! Especially realism. You have hope and have a peachy outlook on the world? Well shit...you're all set, champ. Don't bother with this real world stuff. The path to wealth and happiness is laid before you.

And of course none of that is true. What's going to happen is going to happen regardless of how you feel about things and hope much you "hope" they go well. Don't confuse that with "everything happens for a reason." More on that and how much I believe that is also a huge load some other time.

Think of life as a big piñata. Every time you take a chance, go after an opportunity, try to achieve a goal, you take a whack at that piñata. There could be anything in there. It's just a big paper mache donkey of possibility. So put all your hope and positivity behind that stick and take a swing. Sometimes good things will come out, but more often than not (seems like more often than not. I don't have statistics or anything) life turns out to be a big ol' shit piñata. And as you stand there in that shit drizzle, you can try to justify it any way you'd like. "Maybe I haven't been smiling enough lately." "I let those negative thoughts get to me! No more of that!" But all that is wrong. The truth is that sometimes life sucks. Why do we pretend it doesn't? Why do we pretend we have the power to make it not suck? We don't. It doesn't matter what we do. It's going to suck or it's not going to suck. It's going to do what it's going to do whether we smile or not.

I know I probably sound like a dick. I know somebody (it's fun to think people read this) is out there saying to themselves how much I'm a jackass and why can't I just be happy. I hate that. I hate that people are so delusional to think that they can just flip a happy switch and there ya go! Instant happiness. Sure I could "just be happy," but I'd just be pretending. I could pretend I was on fire, too, but that would make me look pretty stupid. Maybe I don't want to hear about your great day just as much as you don't want to hear about my crappy one. Has that ever crossed your mind? We don't make our own happiness. That's ridiculous to even think. I worry about those people. I worry more about those people than I do people like myself (the super awesomely depressed and negative folks.) There are always going to be outside forces that we can't control. Say what you want, but that's the truth.

I just want people to be a little more realistic. I don't want them to be like me. I have set the bar pretty low as far as expectations go with anything. I've found that if I don't expect much, I'm disappointed much less. It's like the Gin Blossoms said, "If you don't expect too much from me, you might not be let down." Quoting a Gin Blossoms song is a little lame, but that's how I feel. Once I adopted this mindset, I've become a lot more content. I just wish I hadn't always been so naive and been a little better prepared for the shit piñata.

I guess Leia was kinda hot

I was walking up to the apartment this morning after getting, get this, fast food. I know that's a shock. A bee flew right in my face, and as I swatted at it, I caught my glasses with one of my fingers and flung them into the grass. Without my glasses the world might as well be Picasso shapes 'cause I couldn't tell the difference. So as I'm blindly sifting through the grass and dirt, I'm reminded why I'm still single. It's partly because I'm holding a bag of fast food at 8 a.m. that's not even breakfast food. It's also partly because I'm digging around the ground for my glasses that I swatted off my face while I was shooing away a bee like a little girl.

I think I need to make some changes. Maybe get some contacts or something. Hit the gym at least once. Nobody wants to date a guy who looks like, no matter when you see him, that within the last 30 minutes he jacked off to Star Wars. And that's what I unfortunately look like. I don't even like Star Wars, but I give off that vibe. I might as well wear a shirt that says, "Action figure collectors do it in the box," or something. I don't know whether it's the I-cut-my-own-hair hairstyle or the fact that my skin looks like I live in a cave, but it's definitely something.

So I've gotta fix this. I don't want to have a bunch of cats or ferrets or some shit that I refer to as my kids when I'm older. Sittin' there watching reruns of Firefly and asking them if they want more "din-din." This is the path which I'm on now. I want like...normalness minus the kids. And that's probably not going to happen if I continue to be Fatsworth McNerdstrom.

But under all this "I want to change" stuff lies the lazy side of me, and that side is usually the one who calls the shots. So I should probably start looking into what ferrets eat.