Shine On You Crazy Diamond (Courtesy Pink Floyd)

ShInE oN yOu CrAzY dIaMoNd
July 15, 2009

Ok, so I can’t mess this up. Messing up is something that seems to come easy to me. For some it’s athletics, and to others academics. And even those who don’t possess a bold natural talent usual seem to do at least okay in something at least somewhat useful. But me, I’m useful at nothing but being useless and annoying. I get in the way of things. Teamwork in my life means ‘Jacob you sit down and we’ll do the work for you’. No, that doesn’t mean that I have such good friends that they’ll do my work for me, no. it means that I’m such a bother that it is easier for my teammates to push me to the side than utilize my presence in the group. Hell, they won’t even let me take on everyone’s’ least favorite role – the presenter. So I’m not even worthy enough for something that most people avoid at almost any cost.
When I was younger I used to aspire to be something eventually. I always thought that one day I would get my day to shine. And even if I didn’t get to experience the thrill of the spotlight I would get the chance to discover some sort of hidden talent. Maybe something exotic such a calligraphy or acrobatics. But as my luck always is I found no such talent. So as I aged I began to believe in nothing but a life full of dullness and a life full of being the extra in a team. Sure, this was a bit gloomy and disappointing. I mean who wants to aspire into a nobody? But trust me, you become accustomed to being ‘face’ in the back of the class. In the beginning you think that you must look like you blend into the wall, but after a while, you feel like you painted yourself right into the background.
It’s almost gotten to the point where I forget my own existence. Oftentimes I find myself gazing at the bricks in a wall and completely forget where I am and who I am. As if I had never existed. Now as you read…as you read I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. Showing me sympathy would no longer allow me to play my role as the one who takes up no energy for others. I wouldn’t want to disrupt yet another persons’ day would I? I mean in the harsh truth is that I’d prefer to be ignored. Being ignored is an adjustment, but once you get the hang of it you arrive in a place that is very desirable. In my own world I don’t have to worry about offending anyone. I don’t have to watch what I say, because, well basically, I don’t really say much of anything at all. The only thing I have to be responsible for is my own thoughts and well being. And when there are no outside forces threatening your well being there’s not too much to be concerned about. So, don’t be sad for me, don’t feel heartbroken. If anything feel jealousy.
Though I have become almost irrelevant in the world, and though I don’t really care, but rather prefer it, that does not mean I don’t ponder the reason as to why I turned out this way. Shyness, possible. Lack of social wisdom, possible. Luck of the draw, that’s what I think. I never did anything or said anything to really become completely isolated. Life and fate work hand and hand. Life decided that I was to be a loner and fate carried it out.
…
So there was a kitchen table in front of me and I was planted in the same uncomfortable kitchen table chair my family had always owned. Several inches away from my face was a birthday cake with 16 candles and around me was my family singing the same melody billions of people hear every year. This whole scene took me back a few years. I was eleven and my birthday cake was being sliced. All around me where smiles. I was too busy hoping that my wish to get a bicycle would come true. This was time where I wasn’t just a face. I had a name. I had friends. I had a smile.
Back to the big 16. I leaned in to blow out the candles and I wished that I could fast forward to 22. Out of college and on my own. Maybe then I could aspire to something. As I exhaled something strange occurred. I blacked out. I felt the ground beneath me and breath on my face. I heard voices. They were blurred. And I was scared. Would I never become more than I already was?
I opened my eyes. My family gazes met my own. I was in a hospital bed. My mother’s smile met me and I smiled myself.
“Did you eat the cake?” I asked.
“Oh, Jacob, you’re back.”
“Um, I’m confused. Two minutes ago we were at my sixteenth birthday celebration.”
“Jacob, five years ago you passed out and never woke up. You’ve been comatose for five years. Today is your sixteenth birthday.”
I was speechless. I closed my eyes, took a breath, and looked in the other direction, opening my eyes again. I saw four other teenagers in the room.
“Who are these kids?” I asked.
“They’re your friends Jacob. And they are so glad to have you back.”