Friday, December 02, 2005


I remember reading comic books as a child and feeling the weight, this enormous anxiety, for the super heroes. I remember accepting fantasy as fact and then wondering how Superman, Batman, Spiderman, etc., how all these heroes were able to accept the enormous responsibility of always having the potential of being a super hero. Did they ever feel pangs of guilt after moments spent as their true selves, their secret identity? Could they ever enjoy two or three hours watching a film in a movie theater while knowing all along that those hours could be used for doing so much more? And would there ever come a time when saving a life felt like an meaningless errand?

These are just some of the issues that I'm dealing with now. And as time progresses with my newfound powers, I'm finding that these questions don't have simple answers. Powers are totally stressing me out.

Sunday, November 20, 2005


Lily and I live in two-bedroom apartment that many would consider "tasteful."

I had nothing to do with it.

Although I did contribute the sickly futon in the living room, which is more about nostalgia than practical living at this point. Having used it all throughout college, I insisted that it moved in with us serving as an identifier, or a landmark, that the apartment is mine too in some capacity. I'm concerned that my being here, living with Lily, I serve purely as her accessory. That I am not unlike the Danish Modern lamp sitting on the Oakwood endtable. My insistence that the futon stays is an active way of actually existing. While I'll eventually throw it out (it's not like I'm in love with it), in the meantime, I have a weird feeling that it threatens Lily and her mocha leather couch. Which is creepy if you think about it. I mean, it's just a futon. With a lot of unidentifiable stains.

Today is a Sunday and Lily is still sleeping. She tends to sleep late which is not something I mind--she works hard and deserves a restful weekend. It's just not something I can do. While I'm generally not in a rush to wake up either, I find it really hard to simply lie in bed, stare at the ceiling, and wonder about stuff. I would much rather sit on this futon, without distractions, and wonder how it is exactly that someone like me, someone as non-confrontational and uncaring as I am...why was i given this massive amount of responsibility?

Because, seriously, I am so not into saving the world right now.

Thursday, November 17, 2005


If at any point in my life, I had felt typical, it was definitely now. While I never quite strove for individuality or distinctiveness, my nearly passive decision making process thus established me as both. I was and am cheap, so I shop in vintage stores. The clothes that would catch my eye were generally retro, or aesthetically pleasing to the fashion conscious. But trust me when I say this; it was never ever my intention to look cool or, as my Mom would say, "homeless." Granted I do in fact, on occasion, wear a somewhat worn Phil Collins T-shirt from the No Jacket Required tour and I do get compliments on it whenever I leave the house. But when this happens, I resent both the complimentor, for being so in-the-know, and the T-shirt for being unfortunately fashionable. Therefore, I almost want to throw it out. The complimentor is telling me that he or she likes the shirt because it's ironic or funny in a balding-guy-on-your-shirt kind of way but what they don't know is that I harbor a deep appreciation of Mr. Collin's career spanning back to his time as an unassuming drummer in Genesis, taking a literal backseat to Peter Gabriel's vocal duties. And if anything in this world could move me, it's when I hear a song like "Against All Odds." It's during these heartfelt three minutes and twenty-five seconds that I finally understand what it means to be against all odds and wish to never be placed in said scenario. Perhaps I could handle some of the odds but all of them...?

But in general, I would consider myself pretty apathetic. It's not that I don't care about anything, it's just that I find the act of caring too demanding. I once took an casual global inventory and realized that there's a lot of disappointment and heartbreak in this world. To invest my emotional strength in matters beyond my control would seem silly and misguided. Most of my friends would consider apathy to be a condition much like an incurable disease but I'm kinda okay with it. I figure when evaluating our faults, we should embrace them just as importantly as we realize our talents. Truthfully I have always disliked people who overcompensate for their insecurities and shortcomings by imposing their beliefs on me and my status quo bubble. I could never be labeled as one of them.

I reluctantly moved into Williamsburg seven months ago and I have resented the move ever since. It would make sense to move elsewhere but I can't afford to relocate right now. My girlfriend, Lily, who is paying a majority of the rent loves her new neighborhood and makes sure, on a regular basis, that I know about her feelings.

"I did not think this neighborhood could get better," she once said, "but they actually opened a Tasti-D-Lite on Bedford Ave."
Only Lily could get excited about a faux-dairy dessert treat made solely of chemicals. She was the proactive idealist to my self-absorbed lazy self.

Wednesday, November 16, 2005


As much as Sam Leader would like not to admit it, it all begins here.