I’m nobody. I like it that way, but there was a time I wanted to be somebody. Somebody special. So fucking special. But there are benefits to not being anybody. For one thing, there’s very little pressure.
Every once in a while though, I dream of being someone else, someone good. Maybe a late-inning reliever for the Nationals, a little past my prime but still able to get six outs in a close game and setting up for the closer. Or a drag queen, getting all dolled up and fabulous and being bitchy to all the other drag queens and lip-syncing to Madonna records or maybe a commercial airline pilot with a cocaine habit who has to find the terrorist onboard and defuse the bomb without going below 10,000 feet. I don’t know, but sometimes I want to be somebody besides the guy who lives in the world where people get mowed down by guns for nothing more than getting up and going to work or hanging an air freshener in their car. I’m so tired of that shit.
My grandma used to call me “Sognatore” which is Italian for “dreamer” because I was always lost in daydreams. Usually, they were daydreams about how Julie Newmar as Catwoman made me feel funny in the pants for some reason, or what I would do if I owned an ice cream truck. But I’m sure I’m not the only one. I hope today you’ll join me and share a few fantasies so the world of DUAN can live as one.
As always, thanks for coming to Deadsplinter and for letting me be part of DUAN, although I’m not sure what that says about your judgement.