weirdI'm watching a movie. Or at least that's what it feels like half the time. Our hero, the protagonist, if you will, lives a mundane life. He gets up way too early, goes to bed far too late. There's the occasional concert, film, or play, but, for the most part, this is how he lives.
The visual aid, the motif, the central image of this production, if you can imagine it, is a house of cards. At the base of this fragile existence are the few things keeping me going. Film, music, photography, the written word, friends, family, boozing and gaming. Have to keep busy. Have to at least pretend I have a purpose. That there's a point to it all.
So, this movie, earlier today, there was this scene, a real tearjerker.
EXT. - CITY STREET, CHICAGO
The clouds loom overhead, it's dark, but it's still dry. Traffic continues up and down the street, cars whiz by, even if time's stopped for our protagonist, the rest of the world keeps on going.
INT. - PARKED CAR
He opens the card, inside he finds a crimson colored, horseshoe shaped pendant.
I wish I only wrote them, not lived them. I have to keep busy. The H shows, going out every other night, vegging in front of the idiot box. Take any one of these things away from me, and I wonder just how long the house would hold. Are there things I could be doing to solidify the structure? Sure. Do I see myself doing any of them soon. Nope. I just wish that sometimes, I could change the channel.
