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ClappingAugust 26, 2005 - 2:51 p.m.
I am starting to wonder what life will be like when I'm the one who stops clapping. Ever see a production of Peter Pan, or see a playback of the 1960 Mary Martin television production of it? The part where Tinkerbell is dying and everyone has to clap to bring her back to life? I think I've been doing that all my life. In some way or another, I feel like I've been the one trying to suspend "reality" long enough to maybe have magical things happen. If someone else is involved in those things, and they clap, too, then those magical things really do happen. But if I'm the last one clapping, and I stop, Tinkerbell hits the ground. Hard. Soon. Somebody tell me why this is. Reality says that middle-aged people are too set in their lives and too set in their ways to seek out someone to be happy with, even if they don't live in the same block. Reality says that people should take whoever they can get, rather than hold out for the things they really want and know they need. Reality says that people are only interested in mediocre, mundane people like themselves. Reality says that all people are to be distrusted long after any reasonable reason for distrust exists, so that your distrust of them becomes self-fulfilling. Reality says that meeting people is a game that forces you to mold yourself to what McPeople seem to want, rather than be the things you really are. Reality says that what I want doesn't exist and what I am, no one wants. Reality... Reality can shove itself up its own ass. I'm still clapping. My hands are kinda tired, though.
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