I recall in an earlier entry I wrote creating some wild metaphor where I described mood in terms of a fluorescent light, and how I had "severed the connection" so to speak, effectively disabling the bulb. I've successfully managed to solder the wires and get the bulb back up and running, but only to an intermittent extent. It's unusual how one minute I'm full of confidence, but the next leaves me lacking worth and cause... that can't be good :P The first term that jumps to mind for most would be "bi-polar," and I'd be rather inclined to agree, but the second idea that comes in to play is that of seeking help... right :P The only person who can help me right now doesn't even know who she is... nor do I know who she is :P I have a fairly good idea who she is at the moment, sure, but I could be very very wrong (and it wouldn't be the first time.) My self-esteem has taken up bungee jumping, and if you've ever had one of your fluorescent lights just get up and decide to go bungee jumping, you'll know how dangerous (and hallucinogenic :P) such a situation is -- that bulb so much as taps that wall, and, without the rope even breaking, it shatters in to a million pieces... goodbye Mr. Bulb...
...there I go again :P Metaphors: how do they work?
This pendulum-esque behaviour usually starts when I begin comparing myself to others. I'm a very judgmental person, both unto myself and everyone around me. If you've so much as been in my presence for more than a few seconds, or if you've said so much as a word to be, I've assessed you, top to bottom :P It's a hobby that only retains its appeal with the possibility of someone I'm judging to be "worse" than I am, hence making me feel better about myself -- I use the term "worse" loosely because to call Person A "worse" than Person B is just fucking ignorant, seeing as people do not have a "quality value" attached to them for easy comparison (as everyone seems to think these days). Compared to people I find on the Internet, I'm an intelligent, talented and credible figure. With all the brain-dead motherfuckers out there in the digital realm, I can at times see myself as some kind of mystical deity; one of the few who somehow retained the ability to communicate on a level beyond that of the virtual commoner. When I return to the real world, however, things take a mighty turn mighty fast :P
My life in a sense more broad than the computer is nowhere near as appealing, and I'm sure many others would look down on my position considering my circumstances -- I am alone most of the time, with hardly a name or two I can attach to "friends;" I am without the desire to meet new people or enter new places; and I am without the eager nature to do things that have even the *potential* for catastrophe, unlike everyone else in my demographic who all seem otherwise impatient and careless. The people I know are always socialising and doing dangerous shit (at least what I consider dangerous :P) and it evidently makes them happy... so what the fuck is stopping me? Fear! I don't want to be killed in a car accident by some dope who can barely tell left from right when he's sober, not do I want to take control of any similar death machine! Fuck that! I've got things to do, and I don't need a car to do any of them! Thinking of myself in this way destroys all hope and all happiness, leaving me empty inside for a seemingly indefinite time. This is all intensified as my ex comes to mind, always ending with me pondering on my worth as a person and wondering why I should even try to socialise when it's evident I'm just not good with people.
As we hit the middle of the pendulum, now at near maximum velocity (yes; my metaphors obey the laws of physics :P), we approach light speed, and as everything is a dark blur, I begin to search for anything that reflects light. Usually, this is my fancy -- probably because she's fair-skinned and hence reflects lots of light :D -- but those questions of "what does she see in me?" come back to fuck with my head once more. The momentum this pendulum has, however, is incredible (it's fuckin' big, man!) and these questions fade; they aren't answered, but they aren't prevalent either. I just see her and all the things we could do together; I see us. I'm aware it could all be a big fantasy that may never come to be (I'm not mental or anything :P) but it brings that smile I once had right back to my face. It's been a bit harder recently having not seen her for nearly three weeks now, but the power is still there. Hopefully, if I do end up with her (or anyone else, for that matter) we can stop the pendulum somewhere on this side -- as I said, it's heavy, so you'd probably need two people to stop it.
I'm evidently not taking my own advice with the "stopping the metaphor" thing :P
The real kicker comes when I come back to what I've always had and what will always be there for me; what will never die: comedy. As a writer and a performer, I'm always comparing myself to others at both an amateur and professional level, and this is what I've been using lately to bring myself back up to par. In my country, there's a national stand-up competition called "Class Clowns." Last year, when I was only just starting to write comedy, I put together a five minute performance of all the good jokes I had and presented them in the local heat. Now, remember: it's stand-up; you're going up there alone, without backup and without a safety net. It's do or die, and I... sustained minor injuries :P At the end they basically said "you were pretty nervous, so we're gonna give this to the other guy -- however, your material left his for dead."
My material left his for dead, did it? Of course it fuckin' did! The other guy just did a shit-ton of racial and sexual humour; I can write that with my fingers sewn together! Wit, wordplay, intellect and the power of suggestion always triumph, and with a year of writing and performance experience under my belt (not to mention the "balls of steel" I now carry with me at all times :P) I can get in there and kick some fuckin' ass! I've watched the winners of the last two years' competitions, and while they were damn funny, I can point out performance and writing flaws in each one with regards to both relevance, cleverness, audience appropriateness and intellect. They made fun of topical stuff and teenage stuff: Facebook, isolated incidents of violence covered by the media, and celebrities. That material ages fast, and if you don't keep it up to date, it may not even last from the local heat to the grand final. My piece, whilst it does cover some topical issues (it's always good to talk about recent activity -- makes you look like you're committed to your routine) the majority of it is all about the English language, religion and women; three issues that won't be going out of style any time soon. That, coupled with the metal testicles (bleugh :P) should get me pretty damn far, so long as I practice.
I might not win though... gotta keep in mind that I'm not the only one in the country with comic talent... can't get over confident; pride cometh before the fall, and all that... oh shit, no no. Please Mr. Pendulum, don't fall, DON'T FALL! GODDAMN IT! COME BACK HERE! COME BACK HEEEEEERRRrrrrrreeeeeeeeeeee... !
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