My life is a constant struggle.
But not in the way you may expect. When I say “struggle” I’m not talking about some “Grapes of Wrath” Great Depression Dust Bowl shit. I’m not that self obsessed, it’s FAAAAR less severe.
Honestly, I’m not complaining. I’m poor, sure. But its not too bad. The beach is free and has a million great spots to panhandle. I don’t completely strike out with the ladies, so I don’t feel pathetic. I surprisingly have my health, though it’s just a matter of time before I severely injure myself.
No. When I say “struggle” I’m talking about the ever present internal struggle against one’s self. It’s something we all have issue with. The constant pushing and pulling of right and wrong. Our baser urges versus our higher functions. Of the need to not go in to work hungover on a Tuesday versus having that one shot that you KNOW will put you over the edge. For me though, these psyches manifest themselves in various ways. For example, drunk and high Kyle both leave future sober Kyle messages in his phone. And I’ll tell you something, High Kyle does not think much of Sober Kyle. Which I think is ironic, because he doesn’t do anything but find new ways to stack cookies together while watching the same movies over and over again. He’s not doing anything all that great (though seriously, he’s on the forefront of cookie sandwich construction). Drunk Kyle on the other hand, is far more encouraging. He’s almost a loving father figure, despite the fact that he’s the version of myself that gets Future Kyle in the most trouble. But sometimes, a perfect storm brews and these two become one. So. Allow me to get all “A Christmas Carol” on your ass by revealing the inner monologue of the three Kyle’s: Past, Present, and Future.