I was just sitting, watching things and I was inspired into a directed line of thought. A combination of what is the meaning of it all and what is the point mixed.

I feel as if I'm here for a reason but that reason isn't that profound.

Picture these events leading up to a familiar scene from a movie:

A man wakes up to a buzzing alarm clock. He turns over to wake his wife who's already gotten out of bed and is sitting downstairs watching talk shows. He gets up, shaves, brushes his teeth and gets ready to work all the while making no conversation with his wife drawn into the tube. He puts on his work clothes and heads out the door stopping for a moment to say, "off to work honey, I love you." She doesn't look back and replies, "don't forget to bring the trash cans in from the tree lawn when you come home." Sad and discontent he heads out to work, gets to his job as a merchant. He starts loading produce onto the shelves of his cart. He makes sure they're all neat and presentable. The cart wheels perfectly rolling with no resistance and the sign drawn in a professional yet cartoony style. He wipes the sleep from his eyes as he opens the doors of work and walks to his designated selling point at the corner of 5th and Main. He's on his way there, crossing a street when suddenly a man in a sports car, tailed by a cop, tears ass over a hill and, speeding, plows right through the man's cart throwing produce everywhere.

How much of that scene did you witness in the movies? That last bit right? Rewind it a little bit, and then pause it as the man reacts to the cart. That's me.

That's what I feel like sometimes. Like I'm trapped in this role. This pergatory of mediocrity unable to become more or less than what I am because somewhere along the line there's going to be an important scene in someone elses life where there will be the need for a walk-on extra who's down on his luck to make an example out of.

I've never felt like I had a place on this planet. I go through friends like a kid with a packet of sparklers, burning them out as soon as I get my hands on them. People who grew old too quick telling me I've never grown up. Sitting, watching everyone I know become parts of families while I sit here waiting for my cue.

It's pretty frustrating. I always knew that something special was going to happen to me but I just now got the realization that it probably won't be a good special. Maybe I'll be the patient that dies who teaches a doctor to care about details. Or the person the cops didn't listen too who winds up dead. The shot hostage used to prove he's serious. It's like the main character of American Jesus: Chosen said, "When you find out your part of this major plan you automatically assume that you're the lead role but no one ever stops and think that maybe they're just a bit part until it's too late."

I don't even know why I'm trying this really. The chance of this blog making a relevant change in my life is slim to none. Like crying for help in space I guess because honestly, I know I'm stuck at this exact point. I have too many things tethering me to this exact point. I can't move. I literally can't move. I'm shackled to the here and now unable to look at the past and incapable of dragging myself into the future.

Damnit, why can't I get Take the Long Way Home out of my head?