Mr. Cellophane

In a location adjacent to a place in a city of some significance, what comes out of my head is plastered on the walls of this blog.

Saturday, October 20, 2012

"You're 32 years old and you've achieved nothing. Jesus Christ was dead and alive again by 33. You better get crackin'." - Jim Byrd (George Clooney) in Confessions of a Dangerous Mind
Putting aside the insane standard to live up to, there is wisdom in that line. (I'm 31 and a half, but if you round up, it still totally applies.)

What have I achieved in my life? Two college degrees, no jail time, a body free of bullet wounds and debilitating disease, a massive soundtrack collection, managing not to get fired from any of my jobs. Sure. But what have I done in life? What will my legacy be? There are quite a few documents online that bear my real name (Wentworth J. Whistlestop*, by the way), but, in real life, how will people remember me?

Most likely as that Black guy who never said much (unless you catch me in a bad mood at work, then you'll remember me as the sarcastic Black guy with a bad attitude; as insane as it sounds, those people may hate me, but they will remember me).

I'd like to be remembered as someone who wrote a movie, if I could get off my ass and get the final steps taken to finish my scripts. I have a lot of blog posts sitting on my dashboard and I figure that that's a strong metaphor for my life. I start on something, then I lost interest and move on to something else, until I lose interest in that and go on to yet another thing and if I'm lucky, I move on to the first thing I started and get close to finishing that.

There's not much more for me to say (mainly because I think I've forgotten what it was), but I should probably get crackin'.

* - Of course, this isn't my real name.


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