Did you ever see the movie Phantom of the Paradise? In it, Paul Williams is a composer looking for his big break. One day, it comes to him in the bath. His own reflection begins to speak with him. It offers to fulfill all his dreams in exchange for his soul. SPOILER ALERT! He takes the deal. He also gets fucked over by his own reflection. Namely, he gets his head stuck in a record press. He is then horribly disfigured and can no longer get the girl he wanted. It's basically the rock 'n roll stoner version of Phantom of the Opera.
Does this mean you should not listen to your self? No, this just means that you should not listen to the maniacal ravings of your reflection in the mirror. Especially if you don't hear the ravings inside your own head.
I was pretty stoned when I saw this movie. It left me with a mirror phobia for the next 20 years or so. It seems every time I got stoned I was concerned that my reflection would begin speaking to me. Possibly offering me the fulfillment of all my dreams. Pretty freaky, eh? The phobia went away when I stopped smoking pot so much.
Now I regularly contemplate myself in the mirror. I see the new wrinkles forming. I see the onset of eczema. Dandruff in my eyebrows...what an annoyance! I see my bent nose and my crooked teeth. I see my glasses, which are admittedly quite cool, but I am bothered by the fact that I need them. I see my scalp and think back to the days when I had golden locks that would rival Fabio or Peter Frampton. I haven't seen Fabio lately, but just have a look at Peter Frampton these days. All his hair fell out too. On the bright side, they say that is a direct result of a very high level of testosterone. I guess it could be worse.
I see the love handles. Something of a male muffin top. I'm working on it, but I love food and beer...and exercise is not my favorite activity. I do it because I have some goals, but if it weren't for those goals I would be watching reruns of Matlock and eating cream pies for breakfast.
I'm only going to write three more of these including this one, so I thought I should relate to you how I feel about myself. I know there are four more days in the month, but on the last day I'm going to write more about the experience of having written 30 articles, one each day for a month.
So here's how I feel about myself. The beauty of my youth has faded, and I'm saddened by it. So much so that I have thought of having work done on myself, but that's just too vain and I'm too cheap. I've been pretty heavy for the last 20 years and it's a major effort to keep it under control. My only savior is bike riding...and lately running. Running is actually pretty enjoyable as long as my weight is down around 200 pounds (or less). On the bright side I have really great legs and buns! My arms are pretty decent too, and my brain is still working. I may not be a social master, but I can fix anything that can be fixed and solve complex math problems in my head. I feel pretty good about that.
I drink too much most of the time. That's why I take the entire month of January to abstain from alcohol. I just want to make sure I still can. This year has been the easiest so far. This is the first year I didn't get stoned during January either. In the years that I have practiced alcohol free January, I have never started drinking again on February 1. I always give it a couple days. This year I have a friend with a birthday on the third. That's probably when I'll have my first drink of the year. That's just seven days from today. Not that I'm counting or anything.
I spend way too much time pondering what other people think...and I spend waaaayyyy too much time letting them know about it. I miss partner dancing. I especially miss dancing with that raven haired, size 4 German scientist. I miss tandem mountain biking too. I wish I were stronger. I wish more people liked me as much as I like them.
I wish I didn't think cops, lawyers and politicians were fucking assholes. I wish I didn't consider sports nutrition products to be snake oil...but I do. And that much is not likely to change. I wish I had a better outlook...but I don't. And that much is not likely to change either.
In the end, there are a lot of people out there who love me just the way I am. There are also a lot of people out there who hate me just the way I am. I'm thankful for the ones who love me, and the rest can go to hell.
I'm glad you're out there, my friends. I love you all.
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