Your Not The Hero Of Your Story

“I am the villain of the story”- Lex Luthor

“Well, as far as brains go, I got the lion's share. But, when it comes to brute strength ...I'm afraid I'm at the shallow end of the gene pool.” - Scar

We all like to believe that we are the Hero character in the movie of our life. The more I think about it the more I think we‘re not. In a typical movie the Hero character has to battle for a cause whether it’s the love of a woman/man or its against evil the typical ending is riding off into the sunset after winning or giving his life so everyone else can live happily ever after….. What a bunch of crap, my life isn’t like that at all.

As a culture this mentality gets engrained in us from a very young age with cartoons and all the garbage that disney pushes down your kids throat. I believe that’s why it is so hard for people to be generous and giving. Why should they have to be generous and giving because if you were the hero of your story like they are of their story you would have plenty already. Certain religions and feel good morons try to tell you the same thing that being good brings you good things. So if that is how certain knuckle draggers see the world its no wonder there can be a feeling of hate towards the poor.

The most appealing thing about the hero is that they don’t have to be smart…. That means anybody can be a hero. You just need to be brave, usually a little short sighted, and, the number one ability, you need to look like a hero. Take a look at tv and the movies when have you ever seen an ugly hero…. Almost never unless they are an antihero. Go ahead, think of an ugly icon in America, there are not many. When a government can call someone a terrorist and do whatever they like with them, that’s short sighted. A few years after Alexander the Greats death his empire had to endure more or less 40 years of civil war… was Alexander a hero to his people, you don’t get the title “the Great” because your not, but was he short sighted, maybe.

Now don’t get me wrong I’m not saying everyone else is evil or a villain. I’m just saying if you take a good look at your life your going to find that there is more of a chance that you are the Joker rather than Batman. I have been thinking about this for a while and I compare myself to the Lion King. Like everyone else you either see yourself in the Mufasa role or the Simba role. But thinking about it I most identified with the Scar character. I don’t think that I’m a slime ball or anything but like him I’m not the first born, I have no kids, and I’m single. The similarities don’t stop there, I tend to make friends with outsiders because they’re more interesting than the regular people.

Mufasa fit’s the hero role, he’s good lookin, brave, and not too bright. Scar was able to create a whole plot to kill Mufasa and banish his son. I actually thought that was a pretty good plan, not that I would ever do it but it was pretty good. What I think is most funny is Scar represents the nobodies taking their shot to be a somebody and its vilified. But the disconcerting thing about it is I identified with the villain rather than the hero. Sometimes your not the king, sometimes you’re the person that dethrones him.

This is actually why Christianity has always been appealing to me but very rarely “Christians.” A shallow understanding of the bible can lead to all sorts or things…. Like Mormonism. But Christianity grants two face people the opportunity that they crave and that is to show off their holier than thou face. And in most cases in order for me to be good you must be Bad. A solid understanding of the bibles teachings show you than your not the hero, Jesus is. The devils partner in crime is you and Jesus is the Hero of your story. Real Christianity is simple like that.

Jesus Christ as the Hero is perfect because He's not the typical hero. He’s not brave in the sense that he will beat up some bad guys, he’s not handsome but more average looking(don’t believe the paintings), and unlike most heroes he is really really smart(stumping the scholars of his day with his questions). Now that is my kind of Hero.

The Imaginary Exploits of Social Deprivation

First let me say I am not agoraphobic, I don’t like going outside…. There’s a difference. Ever since I was a kid I have spent all my time alone, I had friends at school but my school life never leaked out into my personal life. My mind learned how to entertain itself from a very young age and this little entertainment grew and grew over the years and developed into an entire world. I did none of this through my own will it was all accidental, a direct result of my social deprivation. These are my imaginary exploits.
Lately I have been waking up with a sore neck and the scary part is I think its because I’m getting too fat. I woke up today with the dreaded neck ache creeping its way up the back of my head turning into a headache. My right eye was still sore and blurry from being buried in my pillow. Dragging bare feet so I can get to my shirt that was left on the other side of the room. During the trek to cover my fat naked torso I start to contemplate how fat my neck has become.
I believe my neck has gone beyond looking like a pack of weenies to looking like a pack of ground beef. Like those guys you see on tv like Half Ton Dad and all those other shows that make you consider becoming anorexic. The road I have started down is a long and dangerous road that ends with me doing the splits all the time while I lay in bed. On the one hand I have always wanted to do the splits on the other hand what’s the point of doing the splits if it isn’t to kick someone in the head. My heart starts to beat a little faster and the pain in my neck begins to intensify because I’m focused on it. How close am I to becoming bed ridden and how fast am I getting fatter? At this split second I am reminded of a scene from “The Nutty Professor” where Eddie Murphy is dreaming and he keeps getting fatter and fatter until, “he’s like king kong with titties.”
Being bed ridden may not be so bad after all. I never leave my house anyways and my body type will finally match my body image.(cue violins for low self esteem) I begin to live out a day, in my mind, as a human mattress.
I am totally spread out on my queen sized bed, I feel the right side of my stomach/back fat hanging off of one side of the bed. I wake up because something is poking me in the back, is that the feeling of my kidney finally giving up? Nope, I fell asleep tweeting last night and it’s my laptop poking me in the back…. Whew, that was a close one. I feel a tug in my crotch as I try to adjust, my catheter tube is caught in the blanket, “Help, I cant reach the tube!” I yell into the darkness around me in hopes that my family didn’t finally leave me to my self imposed prison.
“WHAT” an annoyed voice yells from the other room
“My tube is stuck and it hurts, help me out” I cry back
“Not my job but I’ll wake the nurse” the voice mutters
In walks a 5’7” Mexican princess (shut up, its my daydream and I cast the characters as I see fit) in a nurses uniform. “Good morning, what seems to be the problem” she says wiping the sleep from her eyes. She spots the tube and takes care of it right away. I make a joke that makes her laugh and the room lights up for a millisecond before I remember that she is my nurse for a reason. Being bed ridden will always seem to take the pimp out my limp. The bed ridden depression already starts to set in, but on the bright side I don’t have to get out of bed to pee anymore. This day already sucks but there is no way it can get too much worse, right….. wrong.
“so, when’s breakfast?”
“right after your morning workout” the nurse says with a slight grin
I knew it, she hates me and enjoys putting me through pain. Well I can’t move so working out can’t be that bad. The nurse turns on the lights and hiding in the darkness are stationary cameras not only to judge me but make me self conscious about everything I do. “What the hell is that?” I growl pointing at the camera
“your going to be on Jerry Springer today, remember.” she says with a giggle in her voice. Laugh it up you bastard I’m going to need to poop soon then revenge will be mine….. Mine I tell you.(sorry that’s my inner super villain)
Well its workout time, gotta look good if I’m going to be on tv. I wonder what we are going to start with, then I hear the music….. It cant be. “Are you ready?” a very feminine male voice squawks from outside. The up tempo oldies is the first clue to who it is. Then he walks in and makes me wish I would have died in my sleep. Richard Simmons is the celebrity trainer they got for me especially for the show.
(I’m skipping this part because I never knew exercise could feel like rape)
I suddenly feel like the little girl from Willy Wanka and the Chocolate Factory, with a huge body and little bitty limbs poking out from the monstrosity. Forever a turtle stuck on its back unless the arm raises can get me back on my feet. Here comes breakfast finally, I bet if nothing else is good breakfast will be good.
“here you go” my nurse says as she stretches her arm toward me to reveal my ultimate disappointment.
“an apple?” I can feel my fore head start to heat up as the anger boils and my blood pressure almost kills me. If I wasn’t so hungry I would throw It at her, she is lucky I am hungry and have horrible aim.
(I awoke from this day dream because you don’t need to live out a whole day to understand that this sucks and that’s as far as I got before I found my shirt)
Is this my future, is this the life that I am destined to live…. Hell no its not. Its time to work out, right after cereal and cartoons for breakfast.

Getting Older Sucks

I would like to start by saying my birthday is tomorrow and my bday always makes me want to fight somebody. I’m going to be 28, its not that old but your 10 years away from 18 and 12 years away from 40. When you look at it like that makes you want to dig your heels in and fight it but time is like Mexican food it always catches up with you. I wish I was the kind of person that could just celebrate by getting drunk but I’m not, I’m the kind of person that is going to analyze every angle of it until I go crazy. My birthday is like a flashback episode of the last year of being me, except its not funny like tv its mostly just sad like the news. I’m not afraid of getting older but the thought of where I will be in 5 or 10 years really makes me nervous. Let me tell you why.

I recently, and by recently I mean last August, quit a job that I loved and had for 3 years with the county but I had been with the county for 5 or 6 years(I cant remember) and before that I was working part time at the job I most recently quit. Now I am unemployed on purpose but when you hold your future in your own hand and don’t hand it off to someone else it tends to makes you nervous. I like to think life is meant to be spent taking steps forward, but with this recent move it seems like a giant leap backwards.

I loved birthdays when I was a kid and there is almost nothing better in life than cake….. Mmmmm cake. But what are you really celebrating, a night when your parents had all the kids they wanted and destroyed that because they didn’t have cable….. Woo hoo lets party. Maybe we are celebrating the miracle of life that happens a bazillion times a day, I don’t know if something that happens that much is really a miracle. Is it Life that you celebrate when its your birthday, tell me if I’m mistaken but a great life is celebrated by just experiencing it, if someone has to stop your life to remind you to celebrate then its probably not that good. I’m probably just being bitter but Birthdays blow, Hard!

Conquering Fear to Start a Business

Anytime you read anything about starting a business its always kind of vague. Most of the entrepreneur books I read were more like self help books. The truth is most people read a lot of those books because its a lot safer than starting their own business, that’s what I did for a while. Now I’m not saying don’t read the books but what I am saying is don’t read book after book after book, at some point you must take action. Books don’t start businesses, actions do. While I am in the beginning stages of my venture anytime I talk about my clothing business it sparks very interesting conversation with people who are full of woulda coulda shouldas. These are usually very nice people but when your 80 years old and looking back on your life do you want to say I had guts or I wonder what it would have been like. I don’t advocate taking stupid risks, but being an entrepreneur is a risk and there is always the prospect of failure. It takes lots of planning and getting your ducks in order but your worst enemy isn’t a bad plan, its usually going to be Fear. I’m no self help guru but if you really want to start your own business, conquer your fear of failing, your fear of success, and your fear of a challenge. If any of those 3 scare you to the point you can't take action then maybe starting a business isn't for you, but if your fear of a mundane, mediocre, and complacent life is much greater then you can push through your fears. (that still kinda sounds like self help but hey I guess a portion of it is mental, go figure) Now here it is the cure for fear,(drumroll please) Experience. If your scared or nervous about starting a business then just do it, get some experience and it wont be that bad. Just as it says in Alexander the movie “Conquer your fear, and I promise you, you’ll conquer death!”