Never the right question to the wrong answer

I find myself watching Big Fish on HBO for the nth time. A little fairy tale-ish, yes but so entertaining nonetheless. I specially like the thought of being too big for a small town, sort of the opposite of what I feel, actually. And so enter insecurity, please!

Reading comics growing up, there is a god (or cosmic being?) in the Marvel universe called the watcher. And that is all that he does, watch stuff. How can you be a god when all you do is watch stuff? Undoubtedly the creation of a couch potato, This giant-headed being really has no say in the whole universe, except of course when chronicling epic battles of supreme importance. Where do I sign up for that? I definitely feel that I can do that job well.

I remember each and every car accident that I was in and that eventful half a second before I hit whatever object was in the way. That half second could just as well have been an hour. Everything just slows down and I get to see every little detail of what’s going on. It’s that moment when you’ve done all that you could and you just freeze and brace yourself for what’s to come. Upon impact, everything speeds up again and you see “the light”. It’s sort of like a camera flash where everything goes white and that infinitesimal moment gets etched into your memory. I couldn’t remember where I was and where I was going but I remember that moment in full high definition.

Recently, something of the sort happened. Of course, I was a spectator on the sidelines just watching. I won’t tell you what happened and how exactly it becomes significant for me, being that the internet is within the public domain but it felt pretty similar to a car crash. And “the light” was there. Oh yes, it didn’t occur to me that it was a “the light” moment but it was unmistakably there, all right. “The light” was followed by the usual moment of panic of not knowing how to react and then calm settles in upon acceptance that it happened. Rats!

Just like in a car crash, the aftermath was pretty messy and involved a lot of thought. The ensuing back and forth of post-“the light” analysis between me and myself led to nothing as usual, just that blank stare that demanded huge quantities of alcohol to be consumed. The hang over wasn’t of much help either, and when the smoke cleared there were more questions that always came up with no answers. Hello, is anybody home up there?

Such as shame that I learn nothing from these moments. Therapy might seem like a good option, but is knowing what went wrong without the corrective-action-gene going to result into anything? I guess I could accept the fact that these things will happen again in the future and that this inevitability comes much sooner rather than later. So cheers to you, The Watcher! Can you please pass the bar nuts?