I was whining and complaining and bitching about shit when one person close to me said, "You're going through mid-life crisis."
Images of me buying a sports car and dating a 16-year-old comes to mind.
"But I'm only 28! Not 40! Boo fucking hoo!"
"Doesn't matter," he said. "You're growing up. Happens to everybody."
I did not want to grow up. As long as I am young and insignificant, I can do whatever I want. With age, and self-importance, I have to watch what I say and do.
What kind of a life is that? Well, everyone's, really. All adult's. And, eventually, every child's.
All my life, I've been a performer. As a chronic approval-seeker, I have been gauging what people wanted from me, and I would do it. Like a whore. Like a go-go girl. And I wondered why I like go go girls?
It was useful in being a writer, and in some cases of dealing with people.
Thing is, I have always performed for an audience of one. Each person gets a customized dance from me. And I would flit from one to another, again like a go go girl.
Strangely, I have never danced for me. I have never performed for myself. The most important audience of all.
Having a superhero complex is cute when all it does is get me addicted to comics and cartoons. But when I find myself unable to move, unless I'm rescuing people, or making some people happy, it is a nuisance.
I found that I couldn't function without an audience, a subject. And this has to stop, if I want to have what I want. If I want to be happy.
All my training, everything I've read, everything I've worked for, has thankfully prepared me for this. And it has all finally made sense.
I wonder what else life has in store for me. And I wonder what death could teach me.
Oh well. That's the way it goes.
