Stuck In the Middle With Me

I am getting sick of waking and seeing myself in the mirror everyday. For some reason I still harbor the delusion that awake and see someone else in the mirror staring back at me as I brush the choppers. I was raised on a diet of Grimm fairy tales, so perhaps the magical mirror has been in my subconscious since my youth. Whatever the reason, I have often thought it would be great to be somebody. Perhaps if God wanted to prove to me that he existed, a trial of sorts (but much less stressful than Jonah), or maybe God felt the need fuck me over (I never could figure that cocksucker out). Whatever his motivations, I wonder if he could flip the switch like that.

For starters, it would have to be someone more normal. They would definitely not open their mouth as often and when they did said mouth wouldn’t say the first thing the brain transmitted to it. The “momentary lapse of reason” that David Gilmour sought would finally be fulfilled and everyone would be happy. Strangely enough, I wouldn’t change my body. I have never been comfortable in my metaphorical skin, but my literal bone covering has served me quite well. From the oversized legs to the skinny arms to the random backne, it all seemed to work quite well together. One thing I wouldn’t mind picking up some self-confidence. I don’t know what I would be self-confident about, hence the crux of the original problem, but I am sure it would be there. Hopefully this correction would assist several of my other current head case issues, the collection of which make my cranium a primordial ooze of manic moodiness some days.

The problem is that all this is a happy fantasy and I don’t know quite what I am going to do in the interim. I could Jim Morrison myself but that would take quite some time and I don’t know if I could do that many liquor-induced hangovers day-after-day. But, I don’t have to be happy with what I have. First, I think that’s bullshit advice. I am not Freud, or for that matter Jung, but contentment with one’s self seems like such a bullshit exercise that I won’t enter into it. That feels like non-denominational Christian suburban mega church bullshit that doesn’t fit neatly into my day. But then, neither does waking up as someone else. I hope to find a happy medium one day.