My favorite line is from Spider Man 2, where Mary Jane says to Peter Parker at the end of the movie, "Isn't it time that someone saves your life?"
I've always felt like the guy in the background; the one that nobody sees. I'm the one that people do not worry about because I seem to have it all together. Maybe I do, maybe I always have. But when I get sick like I did a few days ago, nobody knew. My pain hides from the world, and it deceives people into thinking that I have no problems. But a person seemingly without problems is a person without chances to grow, and when problems introduce themselves to me, I am usually alone in a room with nobody to call out for help. The problems surround me and engulf me like a giant invisible silver-grey-blue slime that saps my energy and gives me reasons to cry.
I feel bad for my father, who while he is so close in proximity to me; he has no idea what is going on in my life. He can not relate to the things that go on in my head. I tell him, but he does not hear me. His self-centered world where he sees himself as the ultimate giver surrounds him and closes his ears to my words. When he walks into my room to watch me (his son) in awe and with love, my fuming slight of hand switches my screen from whatever I am reading at the time to something work-oriented. I do this because while I can and I DO work for hours or days at a time, he seems to have the convenient timing of walking in on me just at the moment I decided to take a needed break. I could work for days and he wouldn't notice it. I could stay up two or three nights in a row and he wouldn't notice it. He just walked into the room moments ago and stood in the doorway talking about the work he did for the day. When he asked me what I was working on and I replied "my paper," (the one that I have been stressing about and working on for almost a week now, he said "oh, you have a paper for school?" [As if he didn't know from the 1000 times I spoke about it to him.])
Then when I under-perform or when I receive bad news, his lips leak out some uneducated comment such as "well, you should have worked harder", or "maybe if you didn't slack off you would have done better" when he had no idea how many hours, days, or weeks I put into that particular project. He dishes out advice as if he is the wise one before he even hears the facts or knows what is going on. Upon him seeing that I was upset about last week's events, he said, "well, all women are meant to be fucked and then left." "Always remember the four F's: find her, feel her, fuck her, and then forget her." "You were wasting time in the hotel. You should have taken her upstairs." These are the pieces of wisdom that I hear from him. It so frequently surprises me how he is my father. When I snap at him or give him an attitude, I want to cry because I fear that I have hurt his feelings and that he is also alone in this world because his relationships are shallow and meaningless.
I had an interesting dream last night. This dream is graphic, crude, and it is not for the faint of hearts; I ask for your forgiveness in advance for the carnal nature of this dream, and for those of you of whom it would not be appropriate, please do not read on. I was a member of an elite skating team where we were pushed to the extreme to be the best skating team in existence. To perpetuate our unity, by some supernatural selection, each team member (myself included) was paired off as man and wife. We would dress in a white robe uniform, and when it came time for our turn to get married, we would be given a 3/4" brown member (almost like a sausage, wrapped in silver foil) that to me looked phallic. We were supposed to penetrate our designated wife with this phallic organ, and through this we would consecrate our lifelong connection. There was something special and highly spiritual in this connection, and I knew it. But when it came time for me to penetrate my wife to be, I looked at her face and I couldn't go through with it because I didn't have the courage or the faith. It was a big disappointment for everyone, and it was a severe rejection to the innocent girl who was chosen to be my wife. I felt so terrible for her, as if I failed her and the team and I wanted to cry. I roamed around for what could have been hours in my dream, and when I decided that I would marry, I was given the brown phallic member wrapped in silver foil, and when it came time to penetrate, it was a different woman this time around.
This dream was very crude; I apologize for writing it down. I woke up feeling that there was some kind of importance to this dream, and since it is almost 10:00 pm and I still remember the dream and the feelings in detail, I thought it would be important to write down. What I wanted most of all to savor was the feeling of specialness from the first match that I was not strong enough to connect to. This feeling left a mark on my heart that I have been thinking about all day.