Scenic Route

When I started writing I committed to the idea of trying to maximize my time into accumulating knowledge and eating healthier and exercise. I thought, “Surely I if take the same route as these guys I’ll get where I’m going quicker.” I did become happier, but I also felt like I had nothing to say. Which was a morbid contradiction. Maybe that’s why all our heroes die young. They devote every bit of passion to one thing then accomplish it and they have nothing else. Oh and welcome to Monday Motivation.

I was writing Becoming Super, a comic book turned short story, and one day I was presented with the opportunity to play catch with a three year old, or to spend all night writing a story. I chose to play catch.

“Blasphemy! Your suppose to devote all of your time to this thing and must give it your full attention, and all kinds of other vague repetitive points.” I’ve wanted to do a lot of things in my life and I have tried to do as many as possible. But along the way you find smaller things you’d enjoy doing. Which is just as well because you got seventy years to fill. Possibly less. I’m kidding! you’ll be fine. Back to my main point. No one person can answer the age old question, “What is the meaning of life?” There’s a reason for that, because it’s subjective to ones goals or life habits. To Stephen Hawking, it was an equation. To a fundamentalist Christian, it was serving the lord. All these people had main objectives but I’m sure it went in some other direction. Leading to other possibilities they never thought about. That’s the exciting part of life. If you have type A personality and you have everything you want marked on your calendar, let me know how that works out for you.”Well, I’m second degree black belt by the time I was 18, I got a bachelor degree in business science, I was a head of my class. I go running twice a week with my old college roommate.” How productive. I was being rhetorical.

This past month has shown me there’s a lot of moments between the achievements to detour you from your path temporarily. Not all bad, but some can be pretty grueling. The reason you get depressed is because your body fucking hates what it’s doing. I thought if I cram all this shit into my head I’ll find answers that would help me find success. So I stayed up all night reading all these classic authors. I wrote a head of schedule, I would get up early to sit in the parking lot to read for thirty minutes before work and during my lunch break. Then after work keep writing and do video editing. After I reached a stopping point I’d stay up to enjoy a comic or an anime until 1 am as a reward. I didn’t think about scheduling in a social life. The only way to success is work, work, work!

I guess I’m not, “the one.” Because after cramming a mountain of knowledge into my noodle like I’m Neo from The Matrix. I found myself to be tired all the time. I mean don’t get me wrong I learned quite a bit, but there’s a reason youth doesn’t like authority figures. Because they haven’t had enough experience nor the patience to realize how important certain things are. Hence all the adults trying to steer them into a certain direction. Not all the advice sticks and parents and teachers catch a lot of lip. In time everything comes into play. Sometimes you don’t know what the good advice is until a certain situation presents itself, maybe even after.

My Roommate brought his girlfriend’s three year old over. We have nothing for kids at our house at all. She was bored out of her mind. She was screaming and crying for 2 weeks. Her mom gave her a phone to watch YouTube videos. She would slam the phone into our eye balls, tap us until we paid attention to her. She was lonely and bored. Everyone had enough so they would ignore her not knowing how to handle her behavior. I had to work an eleven hour shift on four hours of sleep. After I got home I had to finish and publish Becoming Super for Writing Wed. Except I had walked into a tiny war zone. While everyone was up in arms I handed her a piece of paper and a pen. I asked her if she would like to draw. I don’t know anything about kids. Evidently a three year old doesn’t know shapes. I would give her something to draw like a heart, and she would scribble and look at me with eyes of accomplishment. Confused I’d say, “Very good. That looks just like mommy.” She’d frown and correct me. “It’s a horse!”

I told her I was going back to work and she followed me as I attempted to walk away. Eventually I ignored her too. Her persistence became intolerable. Everybody kept yelling at her and once again she would cry. I came out of my room and asked if she would like to play catch. I remembered she had one of those Velcro pads fuzzy balls would stick to. “I’m having so much fun!” She repeated. I concur, it was very fun. I’m glad I took that detour. Your goals don’t go away from life’s irregularities. I don’t know why society puts a timer on everything. “I had three kids, and a house by the time I was 29.”

Sounds like bigger traffic jams in the future and a mortgage. At the end of my life I may not have as many trophies or certificates as others do. But you can’t take those things with you. I know a woman in the future that won’t get told she throws like a girl because of me, and that isn’t nothing.

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