Like magic? Well, I've got the greatest trick up my sleeves. But like every magic trick, there actually is no magic involved... just another slight of hand that will catch you in awe and wonder at what just happened. Let me show you my greatest trick.
Remember those juggling acts you would watch at a magic show or on TV. It starts with something simple, like juggling a ball. And then they add more balls. But then they kick it up a notch and start juggling something dangerous, like knives. And you know that if you play with knives, you get cut.
Me? I'm juggling.
I'm juggling lives. Besides the crime-fighting I do in my off-time (there never really is an "off-time" for us heroes), there is my real life. My family and good friends, who it would be painful too imagine my life without. But even here in real life, as "safe" as you think it is, you will find that there are these little edges that if you're not careful, you can get cut. This is where juggling gets dangerous. This is where I get cut.
Saturday, I was supposed to see this off-broadway play called "The Average Asian". My best friend was raving about it and I promised the guy I'd catch it with him. Unfortunately, as I'm waiting for the bus, some dumb young kid and his friends triess to mug this woman behind the park. After taking out that piece of trash, I miss the bus, which makes me miss the ferry. Knowing how plays work, I figured I was not going to make it into the theater. Ushers usually become fun nazis, in order to "maintain the illusion". Give me a break! I felt like crap missing out, and my friends probably think it's just me flaking out again. Disappointed in myself and New York's transit system, I made my way home to spend some time with my parents and brother, since I haven't really spent some good quality time with them in a while. Luckily, it was a quiet night in town, so me and my brother were able to order some pizza and kick back.
Today, the same friend was throwing this barbecue. On top of that, there was this dinner near Chinatown for for my fraternity. This was going to be the last barbecue of the summer before my friends head back to school. And this dinner brings out almost every brother in my chapter; the brothers who crossed when I was still in middle school and the brothers who crossed after me. My fraternity big brother was supposed to be there, and I haven't seen that guy the whole summer. I really wanted to make it out, to BOTH things tonight, but I knew I couldn't. I'd miss out on one or the other. Knowing my luck, I should've known I would miss both. After going to church with my family, I tried to make it out to the dinner, figuring I'd make it out just in time. We ended up going to my uncle's place in New Jersey because my mother was supposed to help out with some wedding plans for my cousin's wedding in October. He has a pool there, and I didn't even bring my shorts. After a little pizza (again), my brother and I just played a little basketball. He actually taught me a couple pointers for shooting, but I'm no 'baller' yet. Finally, I was on my way home... at 8:00PM. There was no way I was going to make it to the dinner in Chinatown now, so by the time I got home, I head out to Bayside, Queens to catch what was left of the barbecue. I called up my friend, and I could tell he was disappointed. By the time I got there, I figured it would be smooth sailing from there. Then some car-jacker almost clipped me as I was crossing the street. If you're going to steal a car, then fine, but at least try not to hit anybody in the process. After issuing a "ticket" in his face, I met up with my best friend. My best friend. Me? I'm far from "best".
A long day. A long weekend with a bundle of disappointed people.
You can think, "Well, at least it was all just plans for fun. They'll survive without you there."
But stack up all these little flaking moments, and what you get is the expectation that I'm not really around. The words "I'll be around" become another empty little clichè.
What kind of friend is never around for the good times, but shows up for the bad times; whose memory is never of the good times, but a nasty reminder of the bad times.
So, here I am alone in my apartment, not around.
Do I feel guilty? No. Guilt is what you feel when you do something bad.
I feel shame. What's the difference? Shame is what you feel when you are something bad.
Did you see that? Are you watching closely?
So, I'm magician. I'm juggler... maybe just a bad one.
I'm a disappearing act. I'm a flake.
I'm an empty little clichè, with cuts.
I thinks it's about time for me re-appear...
Remember those juggling acts you would watch at a magic show or on TV. It starts with something simple, like juggling a ball. And then they add more balls. But then they kick it up a notch and start juggling something dangerous, like knives. And you know that if you play with knives, you get cut.
Me? I'm juggling.
I'm juggling lives. Besides the crime-fighting I do in my off-time (there never really is an "off-time" for us heroes), there is my real life. My family and good friends, who it would be painful too imagine my life without. But even here in real life, as "safe" as you think it is, you will find that there are these little edges that if you're not careful, you can get cut. This is where juggling gets dangerous. This is where I get cut.
Saturday, I was supposed to see this off-broadway play called "The Average Asian". My best friend was raving about it and I promised the guy I'd catch it with him. Unfortunately, as I'm waiting for the bus, some dumb young kid and his friends triess to mug this woman behind the park. After taking out that piece of trash, I miss the bus, which makes me miss the ferry. Knowing how plays work, I figured I was not going to make it into the theater. Ushers usually become fun nazis, in order to "maintain the illusion". Give me a break! I felt like crap missing out, and my friends probably think it's just me flaking out again. Disappointed in myself and New York's transit system, I made my way home to spend some time with my parents and brother, since I haven't really spent some good quality time with them in a while. Luckily, it was a quiet night in town, so me and my brother were able to order some pizza and kick back.
Today, the same friend was throwing this barbecue. On top of that, there was this dinner near Chinatown for for my fraternity. This was going to be the last barbecue of the summer before my friends head back to school. And this dinner brings out almost every brother in my chapter; the brothers who crossed when I was still in middle school and the brothers who crossed after me. My fraternity big brother was supposed to be there, and I haven't seen that guy the whole summer. I really wanted to make it out, to BOTH things tonight, but I knew I couldn't. I'd miss out on one or the other. Knowing my luck, I should've known I would miss both. After going to church with my family, I tried to make it out to the dinner, figuring I'd make it out just in time. We ended up going to my uncle's place in New Jersey because my mother was supposed to help out with some wedding plans for my cousin's wedding in October. He has a pool there, and I didn't even bring my shorts. After a little pizza (again), my brother and I just played a little basketball. He actually taught me a couple pointers for shooting, but I'm no 'baller' yet. Finally, I was on my way home... at 8:00PM. There was no way I was going to make it to the dinner in Chinatown now, so by the time I got home, I head out to Bayside, Queens to catch what was left of the barbecue. I called up my friend, and I could tell he was disappointed. By the time I got there, I figured it would be smooth sailing from there. Then some car-jacker almost clipped me as I was crossing the street. If you're going to steal a car, then fine, but at least try not to hit anybody in the process. After issuing a "ticket" in his face, I met up with my best friend. My best friend. Me? I'm far from "best".
A long day. A long weekend with a bundle of disappointed people.
You can think, "Well, at least it was all just plans for fun. They'll survive without you there."
But stack up all these little flaking moments, and what you get is the expectation that I'm not really around. The words "I'll be around" become another empty little clichè.
What kind of friend is never around for the good times, but shows up for the bad times; whose memory is never of the good times, but a nasty reminder of the bad times.
So, here I am alone in my apartment, not around.
Do I feel guilty? No. Guilt is what you feel when you do something bad.
I feel shame. What's the difference? Shame is what you feel when you are something bad.
Did you see that? Are you watching closely?
So, I'm magician. I'm juggler... maybe just a bad one.
I'm a disappearing act. I'm a flake.
I'm an empty little clichè, with cuts.
I thinks it's about time for me re-appear...
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