So....Is This It?

There comes a point in life, some still, quiet moment when one sits trapped in the tendrils of memory. On this armchair of previous thought, past and nostalgia, I glimpse the future and it is bleak. I am at the point, perhaps it is too young of me to have formed these conclusions, but the life I have lived at 22 more resembles that of a 50 or 60 year old than one my true age. When you have seen the world, tasted the finest pleasures in every land, played the games of various industries and found both successes and failures, when your very blood has boiled both in love and in loss, when you've received every material gift possible to have and spoken most tongues there are to speak, when truly your life is at a plateau in which everything behind it is a rollercoaster of experience.....there is not much.....else to ponder. The youthful questions of "where will I be when I am older", are far gone, lost around the age of 15, 16 when I started my first company. The innocent naivete of imagining that life is a giant playground endlessly full of Willie Wonka's goodies and Dr. Seuss labyrinths. The few things still left largely for me to discover are massive wealth, power, and fame. And yet out of these 3, I have experienced in some lesser way, all of them. I am.....perhaps a bit dead. Disappointed with the media circus I believed to be a reality. Reading Homer's "The Illiad", Shakespeare sonnets, and countless mythologies from across the globe, even recent folklore such as Harry Potter, I am wasted with my over-saturation of every vessel of life that has been possible to explore. What else? Though it all has been so amazing and wondrous, even the highest parts of enlightenment such as addictive achievement, and magical love, even in those, true MAGIC, has been missing. The touch of a human hand, or the feel of a trophy in my hand....both are still....LACKING. Where is the supernatural element? Where is this radioactive spider that was supposed to bite me around age 14? Where is my fairy godmother who informs me when I am 17 that secretly I am a princess of a faraway country? Where is my wise mentor adorned with long white beard and flowing robes? Sure, I have had the quest and training of discovering my "powers", been thru that boot camp of life in which you are broken and tested to see if you shall swim. I have swam. But still....these trainings were a matter of discipline and free will, and not the workings of a unicorn or a wizard. Where is the REAL magic of life?

When I gain fame, more money, and more power, will the secret of the universe be revealed to me? No. I think not.

For these are external realms of the human sphere. Many of which I have already at the age of 22 tasted, if not entirely conquered.

I pose a question to the universe, where are the leprachauns? Where is the man who pines away for me with carriages of roses and fairy dust? Where is the grand moment when the orchestra rises together and the pivotal finale of my life is emphasized? I want my own theme music dammit. I want my fucking fairy tale. I want all that which I was fed as a child. I want all the tales in every book I have read, every movie I have watched, every older person I have questioned out of curiosity.

Is the final freedom of life only standing before a waterfall? Or coming at home whenever I want, to an apartment arranged however I want it to be, doing whatever work I choose to? Is that IT? Is that the Ultimate freedom?

There must , MUST be something more.

For if not.....

I am already dead.

I have little enthusiasm for the certainties which will follow.

Blessed and grateful all the way......


but numb and jaded nontheless.

Please ,


send me a fucking leprachaun.
Give me lightning bolts I can shoot thru my fingertips.
Show me how to teleport.