lol

I feel like I'm turning down the path of a serial killer, without the social awkwardness. Maybe one day I'll write a book about it and have a big laugh about the whole affair; a big laugh all the way to the bank. Or I'll just massacre a large group of innocent civilians at a diner one morning and the only one laughing about it will be the Cosmic Joker, the Creator of us all.

After a pie-eyed period of experiencing a new place, a new set of circumstances, the ennui sets in. The hope and optimism and plain wonder of your newly-acquired toy starts to become stale. I hate to sound like I'm whining, even when I am. Once you've been around for a while, when you're no longer a teenager or a child, you expect yourself to adjust to the natural pendulum swing of life; at least see it coming. But I'm a Romantic in that regard. I want to think that without managing expectations, by plodding through the thick latex of one's own imagination, one can actually embrace the pendulum like a wrecking ball and go careening to the other side like Slim Pickens.

But my cynic won't let me follow through. This is the problem with Dualism. It's the reason nearly every epic trying to solve the riddle of man's ultimate reality has had at it's epicenter the inner struggle between two equally powerful and conflicting forces vying for each atom of their host. Usually it's simple: Good vs. Evil; Bad vs. Good. It's right there in the Bible, it's easy for the layman to swallow. But obviously it's not as simple as that, even when it's dumbed down for mass consumption. It's why Ismael had his Queequeg, why Ahab had his Whale.

Sadly, for most of us, it's all about decisions.

Ultimately, the lucky ones find themselves. One side triumphs and the hero breaks on through to the other side. Others succumb to the voice that's not their own. The worst-off of the bunch spend their entire lives vacillating in a mad tug-of-war of schizophrenia, derangement and hysterical dismay.