Idea Barf

This is an unrelenting jumble of ideas that came out in one idea barf.  Don't read too deeply, but I'm sure anyone can relate to some of those feelings.  

Squeezing My Beergut into a Superhero Costume I came up with when I was 9.  Dreams I still can’t put to rest.

When the rest collapses, there’s a wasteland outside.   Oh you don’t see it.  Spring is coming, Spring is come.  Like a Toddler learning to talk, I’ll use my words. 

The thing is, there’s just not much left out there.  Oh there are houses I thought I’d live in by now.  There are days to be had and nostalgia.  There are self induced responsibilities and bills.

Why go outside, I can tackle my tasks in the comfort of my own ten-year-old sweatpants. I ride a bike for Christ's sake.  I live every suburban 16 year old’s nightmare with little to show, but my bleeding heart screams "first world problems."  And I tried to change the world, and I tried to change the world when I was twenty until the bureaucracy said no.

But habits and the idea of adulthood intervened.  Is this what we are, is this what we will be?  Hiding in tv and record collections.  I read that 35% of people in the UK still sleep with teddy bears.  They have lovers and friends but sleep, tightly grasping an inanimate symbol of the past. Childhood

Carebears just took over and my eyes are slowly getting bloodshot, even though I’m sober and it’s 5:12 in the afternoon.  I’m listening to music that makes me feel cool through laptop speakers drinking water out of a beer mug. 

I’m a bit under the weather and the world makes us feel guilty for just laying low.  What should I have gotten done today?   Stream of consciousness from adult me.  The 18-year-old I repressed occasionally wants out.

And now I’m going to have a kid at some point, and now I’m going to be a doctor, and someday I’m going to change the world.  I haven’t given up.  It’s a good sign I’ve managed to maintain three cats, a marriage, and a cactus. 

Is adulthood really just keeping shit alive?  Your relationships, your friendships, you pets, your music tastes, your dreams?  Or is it a social construction like God or Dubstep?  I’m worried about my health now, I could but don’t eat fast food.  I worry about my future so I’m taking classes to make it better.

Is adulthood never being happy with a Saturday spent in comic books again?  A constant lump in your throat that you’ve somehow failed.  Failed at what?  Complete sentences, coherent statements.

I apologized the other day for ending a sentence in a preposition.  My excuse:  I didn’t get much sleep.  And no one gave a shit.  Minutia we cling to from out youth, grammar, cursive handwriting and ideals.

Poetry that I’ve let go to the wayside for too long and a stack of books I’ve been saying I’ll read.  Adulthood is knowing that I can crack that stack anytime I want but deciding I have better things to do.  I just don’t always make the best decisions. 

I have a fridge stocked with things I can eat and a wife that complains when I eat too much candy.  There’s enough coffee and booze in this room to make for one damn epic night.  Instead I’ll settle for Star Trek reruns, salad, and waking up early to learn the anatomy of bones.

The future’s bright, because Spring is Here and Spring is here and the sun isn’t setting until 9 pm.  I can go to bed when I want and get up when I want.  Just make sure it’s my call.

This is a selfish rant.  True, just not seeing all sides, but if I keep trying, I’ll find myself buried up to my neck in Lego’s with offspring that I still am not sure why anyone will let me have.  There may be a wasteland outside or maybe its just early evening in the city I've chosen to live in.  

See, I'll leave that preposition, I can, I am a card carrying adult and I'm allowed.

Clearly there is wasted time.  I don’t really see an end of it some days, this maybe-imaginary wasteland.   But those are the days when I suck.  Most days I do much better.  Squeezing my beer gut into a super hero costume is how I’m coming to grips shirts with buttons and collars.