20nothing.com

I think that my up-stairs neighbors are building a time machine. Every night, drilling, hammering and the occasional groan keeps me awake, forcing me to consciously dream of what they are doing. I have hypothesized a meth lab thriving thirteen feet away from me. I wondered if, maybe, NASA had downsized and a rocket ship was a local inevitability. But, for some reason, I have settled on Time Machine production being their vocation of choice. Which probably serves my interests a lot more than their reality. I wonder if they would let me use it? It gives a whole new meaning to borrowing a cup of sugar.

I would not change anything about my own history. Which either makes me sound completely selfless or completely perfect. The opposite, however, is closer to the real reality. I just, simply, don’t have anything in my life I would change. Other than my nose. My nose is horrible. But I would need a lot more than a time machine to make that happen. Other than every time I have drunkenly ordered McDonalds, I have no regrets in life. My ex-boyfriends would remain my ex-boyfriends, my failures would remain my lessons and my successes would stay those things undetectable to the naked eye. I would, however, change some of global history. Like, for example, I would rip that Academy Award right out of Gwyneth Paltrow’s bony little hands.

Some people wish to change their own past rather than working towards changing their future. It has always seemed rather futile to me, and if the sound above my bed is any indication, getting going back into history is a difficult, time consuming process which just seems to piss off the people who have to listen it.
But human beings like to dwell. I can understand this. I really do hate my nose and any validation that Paltrow has talent can keep me up at night. We like to focus on what we have done, how events transpired and why we didn’t get what we wanted. Trying to work out the answers for this is, really, like trying to work out the riddle of the Sphinx without physically going back to Ancient Egypt. It is, surprisingly, remarkably easier to just move forward. But like how my neighbors could build their shit during daytime hours, the easiest option rarely seems to occur to us.

I have never lived in the same city as an ex-boyfriend. I am, usually, people’s ticket out of a country and, so, am fortunate enough to live in a reality where the people who no longer love me do not exist. It is, ultimately, brilliant as no one important is witness to my Remorse Fucking (technical term) and thus I highly recommend dating only foreign people. If, for the sole reason, that they don’t speak English.
I can’t understand international tongues at the best of times so, “Where is this going?” completely alludes me.

I was recently asked if I would ever get back together with my ex-boyfriend. In an instant, my past was brought into my present and it stopped time for a moment. He is, in reality, the only person I have ever been in true love with. The only person who makes my eyes light up when he enters a room. And the only person who can make history sound like a fun thing to repeat.
He is, also, the only person on the world who can make me so irrationally angry that I wonder why he exists at all.
“Do you really need to breath loudly?” is a question I have wanted to ask on, at least, eight billion separate occasions. Four today, at least. And I haven’t even seen him.
If he doesn’t call me back immediately, I get mad.
If he doesn’t love my outfit, I get upset.
If he doesn’t throw a parade in my honor just because I woke up, I want to kill myself.
None of this, of course, makes any sense. It is just a part of my history that is unchangeable. Because of this, I never make my reactions His problem. He has no idea that I want to kill him simply because he is pretty and clothed. He has no clue that he encapsulates just about every Taylor Swift song ever written. In my reality, at least. Why would I change this?

I can’t understand why people want to change things in their reality and wish that everything had turned out to be completely perfect. I mean, if we can accept that Gwyneth Paltrow was the best actress for one year, we can accept that everything else is just, well, doesn’t go according to our plan. Life becomes very happy, enjoyable even, when you realize that lessons were acquired rather than noticeable successes. Because, well, the future becomes something that can be changed. I mean, we move cities and our past still follows us. So, one has to think, that, if it was possible, our past would go back with us in a time machine and be louder than ever.