So bad it makes me cry. Wet bus stop; no one’s waiting. My car is cold and dry.
Alright, my car is not warm, and it was washed tonight, and it’s probably dry, so that’s the only thing that’s true about that sentence. That and the frustration. Because it is frustrating to have these fantasies, and know they will never come true. I know it’s hard. What makes it easy to suffer that frustration? For some of you, there’s alcohol. Some of you are lucky enough to bring it to life with your significant others. Others of you don’t care that none of it is real, and never will be, because there’s enough porn out there to keep you satisfied. The rest of you? The rest of us.
The rest of me sometimes wishes I could stop thinking about this stuff. Only sometimes. Maybe twice? No, it’s been more than twice… but the rest of the time I love my mind, and I’m glad I’m this way. Sure, my brain comes with a price, and I pay it every day. Every day I think how wonderful it would be to have the power to shrink, whenever I want. Can you understand the ramifications? I would never have to do yard work again. Weeds? Shrunken to a microscopic level. Unruly tree sprouts I neglect for a whole season and have a chance to grow a bit? Shrunken to a minuscule degree. The same goes for chores. Mold on bread? Boom, shrink ray. Well, now that just sounds lazy.
I would not make my shrinking abilities a crutch I’d use to face difficulties (as in, shrink them so I don’t have to face them); but you have to admit it would save me a lot of time and anguish. Someone talks while I’m at the theater trying to watch a movie? Shrunk for two hours. Someone tailgates me when we’re in a school zone and the speed limit is one yard per lifetime? Shrunk while driving, fucker. Someone drives and texts? Shrunk for a fucking year, asshole. Go endanger no one’s life, while you’re at it.
And of course, I’d shrink that one person I want to keep forever as my tiny man. As to the title of this entry, it stems from the truth of the matter. I’ll never be able to do it. I know, I know. Some of you have dealt with that truth with a fair amount of equanimity. You have your life, your work, your hobbies, someone that loves you and puts up with your shit, your children, your pets, etc. So you read what I type and you say, “C’mon, Undersquid, stop whining about the same thing all the time. You’ll never shrink anyone, you’ll never own anyone.”
I know. But I WANT TO. Frustrating. I get up every day just like you, and I live my life, just like you. I do what needs to be done. I take care of what needs to be taken care of. I pay my bills, I hug my son, I call my mother. But at the end of the daily line I want that tiny man I can grab and bring close to my face as I tell him, “You are the best part of my day. You are the oil in my engine. You are what gets me up in the morning, and brings me to bed every night. You, my sex toy. This is why I shrank you, and this is why you belong to me.”
Frustrating that I can’t do that. If I could, I would, and one of you billions of men in the world would find himself in my fist one day. One of you. I keep saying his opinion wouldn’t matter when the time comes to be shrunken… but it kinda does. Who wants to get up in the morning to have sex, and have this to look forward to?
Not me. Not really. After all the screaming is done, I want a tiny man that doesn’t collapse at the prospect of being what I make of him. I want clay that keeps its shape. I want I want I want. I’m not stupid. I know I’ll never have what I want. In the meantime, I’ll keep writing, I’ll keep having friends, I’ll keep loving my son, I’ll keep getting up in the morning, I’ll keep trying to be a better person, I’ll get my citizenship so I can vote next time and make little difference just like most of us, I’ll get groceries and try to be a good example for my son. I’ll forgive and forget, I’ll love and I’ll hate, I’ll cry and laugh. I’ll live.
But it’s frustrating.