Rocky: “I don’t know, there’s still some stuff in the basement.”
Paulie: “What basement?”
Rocky: “In here.”
Ok, I’ve never won any sort of championship.
I never got statue of myself outside the Philadelphia Spectrum
I never even owned a cool black leather jacket with a tiger on the back.
However, I have always believed I’m a true underdog story.
My whole life has been a million to one shot, much like the plethora of Rocky Balboa references I’ve already dropped in this blog, the odds of me being a success have always been questionable.
It could be said that I’ve done it all in my life. Or as I like to catchphrase “seen it all, and been through more”. After doing the recap of my live in some 50 odd blogs, I felt utterly exhausted…and miserable.
Looking back at all I’ve had to go through to get to this very moment is something I wouldn’t wish upon my biggest enemy. Maybe on the person who stole my mug this week, but certainly not my WORST enemy.
For all intents and purposes, I should be happy I’ve turned everything around in my life. Sure there are small little things missing such as love and happiness, but I’ve existed without that for most all of my life, so I’ve grown used to it.
I’m in a great job, with the potential of some sort of forward movement on the horizon after 5 years of being there (BIWISI). I’m debt free. I’m eating well. I have a few cents to spare. All good things right?
Then why am I so restless?
Because of that damned junk in the basement.
I have one last fight in me. I need to know there is still a place for me in this world. That I can go toe to toe and say I AM.
All day, every day I listen to people complain. Complain about work. Complain about the air conditioner. I listen to people talk about their children and their first teeth, first word and first poop. I battle traffic every morning. I deal with electricity outages. Water shortages.
I’m living a very ordinary life. I’m living a very frustrating life too.
It’s not what I am meant to be doing. It’s not where I am meant to be.
These are all things you have heard from me before in one way or another, but I’m reaching the point of self implosion.
Before that happens…I need to get into the ring one more time. I need to take on that impossible fight, but this time…it’s the last round. If I lose it…I need to just shut the hell up and go about living life like everyone else does untill my time on this earth is up…but, if I can just get in one good punch….I may just get the upset knockout and get everything I want in life.
I wish I had an Adrian to do it with. I really do…but this is Rocky 6. One last sequel. Besides Adrian is dead in this one *spoiler alert*…(or does that go before the actual spoiler)
It may be crazy…but what’s so crazy about standing toe to toe with someone saying “I am”?
*This has been a Rocky/boxing metaphor for my life as of today.
** This blog is dedicated to my muse. The sole reason I was able to overcome my writers block.