The Third Act.

The Soliloquy

Yeah, you didn’t see this coming. An actual half-decent fucking entry. I was going to post yesterday, but I got hungry and never bothered.

So why an entry now? Because Act Three of my life is in progress.

Act One was growing up and being a happy, albeit often ostracized child.

Act Two? Being a young depressed male who didn’t know what he wanted out of life.

Now, not too much has changed since Act Two. I still get depressed sometimes, and I wouldn’t say that I’m much closer to knowing what I want than I was before. So what is the difference? Glad you asked.

The difference is this: I concede to defeat. You win, life. Time and time again you’ve shown me that being happy is obviously not on your agenda for me. And you know what? Fine, I can accept that. I can accept that you want to see me sulk my days away. I can accept that I’ll never have a half-decent relationship because years of emotional neglect has caused my emotional shell to become hard and near-impermeable. I can accept that you want me to be transfixed with morbid thoughts of my own mortality and that of others. I can accept that no matter what I do, I’ll never be content with the things that I do. I can accept that you want me to be a good friend to everyone and solve the problems of others while my own remain an enigma never to reach resolution. I can accept that while you seem to favour others around me and give them a more direct path to the things which they seek, while mine seems to be craggy and turns in on itself far too many times. I’ve accepted that the only emotions you’ve chosen to provide me with are sadness, anger, and envy. I’ve accepted a lot of things from you over time, life.

There’s something I want in return for this acceptance, though. An answer. Why me? Why did you choose me to have this glassy-eyed look toward the world? All I ever wanted to do was help others, and in the beginning, I was more than happy to do so. However, as time passed, you showed me that many could not be trusted and would betray me. In those odd moments where I would seek my own happiness, devoid of any reason or devoid of the need to please another, you would prove that those moments were fleeting and not mine to have. You would show me that I was nothing more than a conduit for others to live through, so that they may attain their happiness.

I’m not going to be as naive as to say that the deal is off. But shit, life, you’ve dealt me some bad blows in my opinion. I’m a bit older and “wiser” now, and I’m finally starting to fend for myself in the world. I think you’re trying to groom me so that I will never be able to truly enjoy my life, but instead am making the preparations so that those who follow can have that chance. You have endowed me with skills that I will need to survive, but not the drive to apply them to the best of my capacity. Do you revel in making me ironic? Paradoxical? A jest unto my own being?

We’ll see who has the last laugh.

The Path Before Me

I’ve been keeping myself occupied with a lot of small projects recently. Part of the reason why I don’t chat so much anymore—I’m always making sure that I’m doing something. Currently, I’ve obviously been working on the Fish & Chimps strips, because they’re getting updated every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, and in regards to the site, I’ve been waiting for some inspiration to hit on what a more efficient design could look like. Also in the works is what I like to call “Project X”, a top-secret thing I’ve been working on that only few have seen glimpses of so far. Schoolwork and work are always something I have to worry about, and they’ve been more prevalent than I’d like recently. However, I suppose I don’t have too much of a choice in those matters for the time being.

One thing that continues to irk me on a regular basis is my website. Maybe I’m just trying too hard, but I can’t seem to come up with an idea of how I really want it to look. I mean, the design right now is functional, but it’s not really the image I want to convey aesthetically. Maybe I should go back to the basics, scrap my ideas and start over—I don’t know.

As for the girl situation (because everyone thrives on bullshit tales about relationships and stuff), yeah, it seems that all of the girls I had my eyes on have boys. Life enjoys playing games with me… but I said that already, didn’t I. Ah well, like I said, I’ve accepted this. All of it. If you’ll excuse me, I have other shit to take care of.

The Ending

It took too long to write this post. Several days. But now it’s done. What does it say? That, I don’t even know. What I do know is that it is a collection of paradigms and pronouncements. An arrangement of ideas and ideologies. A means to and end to a means. And the answer to the formula is Doomz.

–case p.

By Casey E. Palmer

Calling the Great White North his home, Casey‘s spent the last few decades in pursuit of creating killer content. From novels as a kid, comics as a teen, to blogs and photos once he could grow a beard, he’ll use whatever’s around him to create amazing stuff.

When he’s not creating, he’s parenting, exploring and trying to make life as awesome as possible for everyone around him.

Because a boring life’s not a life worth living!

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