Man, I wonder how quickly I can do this.
Remember when I used to steal time, when I called myself a time thief? That was 3.25 years ago, and somehow time has gotten its stuff back from me. I push my effort into all the little corners and crannies that life gives me lately. I’ve learned that resistance is futile. That reacting with anger is only a way to show the world that one doesn’t understand what their responsibilities are — and it’s a curious change to behold from this side of my face, because it’s happening to me. Instead of snapping, I can nearly feel a physical sensation as my mind stretches out to find its peace with the situation. In retrospect, it’s all small beans.
Of course, the situation could be much more extraordinary than an unexpected change of direction in one’s day. Not everyone can be asked to find their inner Plasticman.
I have long aspired to find that secret superhero within, and I suspect that there has been a conspiratorial push to bring any such people out of the woodwork of society since the dawn of the atomic age. As our world becomes more extraordinary, it feels like there is an undercurrent of longing for extraordinary people to guide us, and to show us how to shine and to have hope. It’s so sad that this is a time when the people of the world are watching this sad contest between two clowns who have no business at the top of the free world, but I would be at a loss to suggest an alternative.
As far as I’m concerned, I’d prefer to go gray at my own pace.
And the frustration continues at many angles, as we’re less than two months out from Halloween and suddenly I’m interested in building a costume from scratch, partly for the sheer love of creation and partly because I think it would be cool to have something to wear to comic store day in the Spring, or Halloweenfest (another comic store holiday,) and heaven forbid, should something like Comic Con ever come to North Dakota, saints preserve us! But it appears that the Internet has little to divulge when it comes to the secrets of Hollywood’s costumers. Mme. Ross is going to teach me to use her sewing machine this weekend, and then we will see what I can do with that.
But wearing a costume means little. Costumes come in all varieties, including pantsuits and silly blonde wigs. You can’t hide what you are so easily, can you?
I have to run now.
This week’s Daily Post challenge is to write a post about a superhero who speaks to you. Of course, I didn’t exactly follow the rules . . . scoundrel that I am.