WHOA THERE COOL IT THAT’S WAAAAY TOO MUCH FROSTING FOR ONE DUNKAROO YOU GOTTA RATION THAT SHIT
"Portrait of Darth Vader as a Young Hipster." The great James Earl Jones early in his career. I saw him for the first time as boxer Jack Johnson in “The Great White Hope”. The man with the incredible screen voice turned to drama to help him with a speech impediment as a child.
They need to stop fuckin around and make this a live action movie.
If they only knew how much of one’s time is used in just thinking about whether or not I can regain my footing in life. Drifting it seems is all I know nowadays, with the promise of a tomorrow slowly losing it’s grasp. I stand here amongst the crowd hoping to be apart of something, to be what I was suppose to be. However these days I can only worry about so many things, and my dreams aren’t one of them.
You only ever realize how much you change after its happened. And I can’t remember when and where everything turned for me, when I turned into what I am now. A workaholic, alcoholic, loser-aholic. I’ve forgotten what was truly beautiful in life. I can’t remember why I used to be so amazed by nature or how the hell we managed to have airplanes constantly floating in the sky. Now all I ever do is be stuck on my phone becoming an everyday drone. You can see me along a line of strangers waiting for the subway to arrive and we all look identical. Once upon a time that line was filled with colors of aspiration. All you would see is nothing but black and white. We step onto that train without the clearest idea of who we were, it was as though we all sold out.
I can’t really explain the feelings that I feel at night or why I do. A lot of it seems a bit foreign to me and only frustrates me. I try to sleep properly every night but I end up staring at the mirror reflections. Within that reflection I see a man whom I do not even recognize anymore, a man who was a lover, a romantic, an adventurer, a dreamer. Now I just see shades of blue. I look tired, I feel tired, and I’m exhausted by feeling these feelings that I cannot control. I continue to stare and find nothing. I lay back in frustration and knock out in the midst of the night.
Waking up, shower, work, eat, and then sleep. Repetition has become a routine in my life. Every now and then these urges come up so I take another road home rather than hop on the subway. I witness a child coloring the pavements of the street with chalk that I happen to walk on, it was late at night. Her awkward colors and designs were beautiful, the array of colors lid up the street more so than the street lamps. I kind of paused to see what she was putting together. The child saw me, rushed to apply these last minute colors and ran off inside her broken down house. I could have sworn she cracked a smile as she vanished before me, then all of the chalk fell onto the floor. It was a weird painting that could of spoke to me. It resembled a awkward triumphant silhouette with a crown on it’s head and the words “the once and future king” with arrows pointing towards me. A man patrolling the streets took a second and admired the child’s drawing and smirked. He leaned towards me and whispered “Maybe you should finish what you started” and walked away coldly. I wondered what he had meant as I continue to take more looks at it. I couldn’t, for the life of me, figure out what the child had meant for this picture to be about however I felt gravitated towards it. It meant a lot to me and gave me a purpose, but for reasons I still haven’t figured out. I walked away from it as I had walked away from many things lately. Silently into the night I wandered.