The Dodo's Quandary

To exist, or not to exist.

There’s an inherent dichotomy within my inner psyche. Two me’s if you will. The me who could have married a high school sweetheart and never left the hometown and been perfectly content, and the me who terrifies himself with thoughts of settling before having seen the world, and missing out on all the opportunities that life has to offer. Then, and this part is a fiercely guarded secret, there’s a third me. Naturally meaning, and this is the first time I’ve ever admitted it, that there is an inherent trichotomy within my inner psyche. Yeah. Nietzsche your way outta that existential quandary. And the middle of my schizophrenic triplets, the one who always gets picked on by his brothers and has to sit in the backseat on long car trips, is the me that has currently won the situational conflict of my being and is residing in Oxford typing nonsense on this computer. The me who made sure not to linger in the home that he loved, but was too realistic to attempt the unreachable dreams, and so took the middle road. Now don’t mistake him. He simply adores the middle road. I mean, it’s cobblestones, and everybody loves cobblestones. Me included. But it doesn’t stop him missing what he doesn’t have and longing for the greener grass on the other side of both fences. Basically, he’s just a malcontent bastard and the other me’s occasionally want to throw rocks at him. But they’ll get over it, and then we’ll go for drinks and kebabs tomorrow night.

First round’s on me.