The Ever-Loving Virgin Prince

Profusely perspiring porcupines, porpoises, platypuses, and pachyderms,

     While thumbing through my hardcover copy of The Batman Archives the other day, I came upon this scene at the end of a tale in which Batman foils some would-be gold thieves. I immediately cracked an evil smile; THIS WAS BRILLIANT! I later showed it to my friend, The Red Rightwing, and he too broke out in laughter.

     “It’s funny because it’s true” he said.

     He was right of course, and I joined him in a hearty laugh.

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     Okay, so I kind of got roped into this whole MySpace thing. I’d been avoiding it; the whole thing just reeks of high school to me, the site looks cheesy, doesn’t allow as much freedom in programming, oh, and it’s really damn slow. Not to mention you need a membership to view the things. Oh, but the Magnificent M insisted, and now I’ve got one.

     Those things are damn hideous. I hate MySpace pages. I spent a good chunk of today trying to fix up the one I got stuck with (it wouldn’t have actually taken that long if MySpace had faster servers) but I’m still not pleased. Looks like I’ll have to break out the old programmer’s brain and get crackin’ on some HTML again. Stupid MySpace. Like I don’t have enough to do.

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     There’s been one thought running through my head today; Rutger Hauer said it best in Blade Runner when he said, “I want more life, fucker!”

     That’s what I want, more life. And I suppose to some degree, I’ve gained it, having given up drinking. But that’s not enough. I want more life. I want to feel more alive. I want more parties, more fun, more writing, more accomplishments, more status. Sobriety is a boring thing. I want more money, and a more attractive girlfriend with a better outlook towards the world around her. I think I deserve it. In my sober state, I know I do.

     I’m writing more, reading more, keeping in touch with friends and family more, exercising more, flirting more, eating healthier, getting my general shit together, but I want MORE! I need more. I’m going nuts. The alcohol kept my desires in check; now they are unleashed and running rampant.

     I don’t regret the past few years, those years when I was obsessed with the fun and the parties and the drink. I can’t regret it; I had a great time. But now I need more. I need to start getting published again. I need to start drawing again. I need to create again. I need to fully tap in to that idealistic spirit and boundless passion and energy I once possessed so overwhelmingly enormously and still have laying, now half-dormant, inside of me. I am mad, I am possessed.

     What do I want? I want more life, fucker!

Be seeing you,
The Virgin Prince