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Can’t.

February 12, 2009

The “can’t” monster is a bar blocking my way in any direction that I would want to go. My prison guard. And the bars. And the little tiny windows as well.

Yes, I know. You've seen this monster before. It actually stars in a movie. But before that it was the Can't monster and after that it went back to it's day job after a fleeting moment of fame.

Yes, I know. You've seen this monster before. It actually stars in a movie. But before that it was the Can't monster and then it went back to it's day job after a fleeting moment of fame.

It’s a big gaping mouthed monster that is laughing at me, and any direction that I turn in, it runs faster than me. It’s always there. With it’s smelly breath and it’s slimy fingers and it’s slobbery mouth. And it leaves a trail of sticky brown slime everywhere it goes (which is only around me wherever I go). On some days I am overcome with courage. I take a step closer. Sometimes I wonder if the monster is even real, or one of those holographic images projected from somewhere (where, I don’t even think to ask). I’m going to touch it, I say, because even with all that disgustingness I’ve never seen a weapon of any kind. If I take one step he starts laughing more. If I take two steps then he starts pulling my fears out of my own head and saying them to me, like he’s an authority on the matter. Sometimes I wonder how he knows what my worst fears are. How can he know what my worst fears are? And he’s saying things like:

“You can’t pass me. You’ll just fail anyway and then you’ll be a failure.”
“You can’t pass me. Once you’ve failed EVERYONE will know about it and then you’ll be a failure around the world and everywhere you go people will point and laugh and shout “FAILURE” at you.”
“You can’t pass me. Something horrible will happen. Like you’ll change too much and nobody will love you anymore.”
“You can’t pass me. To get to where you want to be takes WAY too much effort and dedication and I know you, you’ll get bored and quit halfway anyway.”
“You can’t pass me. You’re just going to do the same things over and over again.”
“You can’t pass me. You’re not ACTUALLY going to change, you know. It doesn’t matter how much silly stuff you do.”
or the worst one
“I’ll be back anyway, so what’s the point.”

And it’s silly to you maybe, because these aren’t your worst fears. But to me, it’s crippling. So crippling that I curl up into a little ball and continue to feel very sorry for myself for a while, and then completely give up on whatever my big idea was anyway. Point monster. In a while I’ll stand up, and I’ll try again. And the same thing will happen. And it’s starting to piss me off. This guy is like a school bully, always pointing fingers and making me feel horrible but never actually doing anything. If Can’t actually hurt me, then I’d at least have something to be scared of but he hasn’t. So I shouldn’t technically be scared.

But he’s still a scary monster, who smells really bad and is obviously psychic and, by the looks of things, doesn’t even need to sleep.

And the thing is,
there’s this other guy breathing down my neck too.
And I KNOW he’s for real.
He has a weapon. And he knows something I don’t. And he’s coming for me at any time because he comes for everyone at some time.

Is my life worth a single thing if death finds me still trying to figure out how to get around the Can’t monster?

death-3

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