Tuesday, July 12, 2011


Jarred awake at 4:30am. I feed dogs, shower, pack work clothes, and dress for gym. I rush out house without a moment to spare. I workout, report to job, and battle promiscuously against other males on the tennis courts. I limp back home by 9pm, having only a small window of time before I must go to bed to do it all over again the next day.

This strict routine prepares me to be in the best possible form for tennis. I may not win all of my matches, but I at least give myself a fighting chance. I am conditioned to play tennis for hours each day under high humidity and scorching hot temperatures.

The downside is that I morph into a lean and mean T-1000 Terminator machine bereft of human emotion. I experience no joy in conquering foes. Victories are regarded as confirmation of my hard work, preparation, and skills. My brain is imprinted with a giant scoreboard tallying statistics, rankings, and the accumulation of points.

Just last night, I observed to my Mixed League doubles partner Lisa that we have lost the first game of the second set in every match this season. The female player on the other team annoyingly asked, "Who keeps track of statistics like that?" Lisa shrugged, "I don't know... Brett does." By the way, we crushed that team 6-1,6-2 and raised our record to a perfect 7-0 (14-0 in sets).

It is terrible. I find myself going to grocery stores and scowling at imperfect humans buying booze, cigarettes, and lottery tickets while their squishy children whine for more candy. With contempt, I think "what a waste... none are prepared for battle... such slothful and gluttonous creatures!"

SHITTY, EH?

All is not perfect here. It has been eons since I remembered my last dream or enjoyed a blissful 8 hours of sleep. I can't remember the last time I experienced strange human emotions of: "happiness", "sadness", and "love". Why have they become foreign to me? Have I intentionally programmed myself to NOT feel those things?

Sith or batshit crazy? Could it be that my heart was hurt one too many times? Perhaps a momentous decision was made to raise the defense shields high and replace the wiggly heart with a computer chip so that I will never suffer from pain and disappointment again? It's all very plausible.

One day, I will meet my soul mate. A smile will return to this face and my heart will soar once more. Just us... perfectly made for each other... together and partners for life. That is my dream.

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11 Comments:

Anonymous Adkcub said...

You have lost your soul!

July 12, 2011  
Blogger (F)redddy said...

That's not crazy at all. That's pure poetry. I hope you find him...someday.

July 12, 2011  
Blogger Brent said...

Don't take this the wrong way, but you could use some therapy. Oh and I want your body!

July 12, 2011  
Anonymous Kevin M said...

I vote batshit crazy.

You won't find your soulmate until you recover your soul, and your soul has been lost by your insane focus on competition and winning at all costs. What man in his right mind would want to be with someone who's constantly going to be judging whether he's becoming "squishy"? Who would want to be with someone who treats every event, occasion, game or sport as an opportunity to win? That means your hypothetical partner would be be made to feel like a loser on a regular basis.

When you learn to be happy with yourself - as you are - without worrying if you put on an extra five pounds, without worrying whether you've won more games than you've lost, without obsessing over every freaking point you coulda mighta shoulda made - then maybe you'll find someone who values you.

July 12, 2011  
Blogger Blobby said...

Um...why exactly do you shower BEFORE the gym?

July 13, 2011  
Blogger Raybeard said...

With no wish to brush aside your heartfelt text here, that pic of you at the top in those low-slung jeans is just TOO much. AND it looks as though you might have gone 'commando' in them. Phwarrrr!!!

July 13, 2011  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I would venture to guess that the only place you would find somebody "perfectly made" for the person you've described is in the mirror. Does the story of Narcissus ring any bells?

July 13, 2011  
Anonymous jimbo said...

Brett will never recover because I have his soul trapped in a specially made amulet of necromantic power, which is why Brett is obsessed with me because I possess his Precious.

July 13, 2011  
Anonymous JC said...

Is this a recycled post? I feel like I've read this before.

July 14, 2011  
Blogger RG said...

Fuck the naysayers! Go get 'em Brett! Cry havoc and release the dogs of war!

July 15, 2011  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Soulmate?? Really?? Is your fairy godmother gonna help you with that one?

July 17, 2011  

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