[I started writing a serious blog post about my serious thoughts. I started writing a sketch for 4109. I started a new show. I can't seem to finish anything. Here's my problem: I have nothing I feel particularly burdened with. How about you? Have you ever woken up one morning and found yourself blasé? Did you, as I, find yourself to be trivial? Am I talking into the void, or am I talking to Janelle, Ashley, intermittently Paige, Ali, Kyle, Katy, Alyssa, and mum? Is Amanda still around? Why is Kyle the only male who reads my blog with anything approaching interest? Do men read anymore? Can I not write for a typical male viewpoint? How many more questions can I write before you get fed up with reading them in the same uptic tone at the end? Two? Am I irrelevant?]
[I read Jimmy Corrigan, The Smartest Kid on Earth recently. I would italicize that but I'm on my phone. Count this as apology for the other twenty tons I've done the same thing within recent memory. Back to Jimmy. It's an incredibly dense graphic novel with visual themes and consistent metaphors the likes of which the comic medium has not before (nor since) seen. Peaches? I still haven't figured it out. It left me as lost as Akira, and made me feel more inadequate because at least I could rationalize getting lost in Akira's scope, or its foreign mindset, or hope that the key to its release was lost in the translation. Back to Jimmy, and hopefully my point. Jimmy Corrigan was about making you feel, inch by inch, the same gripping weightlessness that grips Jimmy every day. But see I didn't need any help. Apparently the thing they don't tell you is that when your life goes too high, too fast, you stall out and fall. Weightlessness follows when you're falling faster than the earth can drag you past your surroundings.]
[Today, and I suppose for a while now, I have felt weightless. I'm going to ask for it tomorrow. I will ask God for it, and the people I hope can deliver it. If they can't, then I guess I'll ask God again. If he won't, I'll be satisfied and write about falling again on the blog. Hope to see you then.]
I know what terminal velocity feels like. You don't have to prejudge me like I'm some sorority girl out for her first walk of shame. I've been around the block. I know where the kinks are in the system. I've fallen four miles on ten separate occasions and I've never had the chute misfire at the bottom.
Find your trust. Find your center. If you don't, I'll pull your chute myself.
[I guess.]
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
I don't think telling you I think these are good questions will do anything worthwhile for you. One of the things I love about you, Robby, is my complete inability to affect you. You complain of feeling weightless, and I confess that in reading your post just now, I felt the same way.
ReplyDeleteI don't feel that this will do you any good, but what I'm about to say feels appropriate, I guess. So here it is: I have felt far, far too heavy for much too long. This works on many levels, but most of it is just that I wish so very much to just minimize the damage I've caused, will cause. But, of course, the more I try, the more problems I cause.
You want to matter, yes? You worry that you're not making an impact?
You are. You do. And I'm sorry I can't be a screaming throng chanting your name or a man you respect gaining insight from your blog or an interesting puzzle you have to take time to figure out. But if you ever wanted to ease one heart's aching or pull one person's parachute, you have.
I think I understand what you mean about weightlessness. Until I became friends with Janelle and you and Curtis and our Castle night crowd and a few others, I definitely thought I spoke into the void. Sometimes I still feel as if I still do. But I know it's momentary.
ReplyDeleteAnyway, I can identify with this and with the asking and the searching. I'll see you here on this blog, even if I don't comment. :D
Thanks. The readers that do read: thanks. You're the thin line keeping this blog from being an exercise in egocentrism and instead a dialogue between adults, even if your half is silent.
ReplyDeleteJanelle, your comment makes it out like you don't matter. Stop that. But I don't suppose I have the time to prove it to you. I'll just keep going one day at a time.
Thanks, Ashlee. You raise the IQ of the room and keep us from sinking into mediocrity. If you ever publish, you'd better not keep it from Janelle and me.
Robby, that wasn't my point. It is so far from the point. The point is that you matter. Who you are, what you think, all of it. You do.
ReplyDeleteI also thank you.
ReplyDeleteWhat you said meant a lot.
Thanks, Robby. I read that this morning and smiled.
ReplyDelete