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All the voices
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him for lapping up the
admiration. He was dead
cheesy. I always thought
so. And yet, take away
the obvious and you’re
left with something in the
structure of all this which
connects us. Vanishing
and then re-appearing
somewhere else. Simple
as that. It may even have
been while watching Craig
doing his sodding magic
tricks that I first became
aware of myself and of my
real ambition for escape.
A dire thought: I wonder
how much my uneven
leg lengths affected the
way I think; whether I’m
in a permanent state of
embarrassment about my
limp. It’s kind of a shame
to think that the most
fundamental core of me
should be constructed by
my deformity. I like to think
my self inventions are
ideals and quite removed
from
the
pragmatic
approach to life. In my
secret head space at least,
I don’t care about my
legs, and am cool with the
idea of imperfection. And
I revel in my outlook. It’s
like giving a two fingers to
the world and its precious
vanity. A two fingers once
and for all, mind, not
a continual reprimand.
Because as I’ve already
indicated, I did not
want to have this kind
of dialogue going on ad
infinitum. Accepting my
limp made me feel strong.
I wasn’t fazed by it. In the
abstract. Given time I’d
get to where I wanted to
be. With each passing day
the urge to vanish was
becoming more intent.
Part of me wished magic
was for real and I wouldn’t
have to do everything the
hard way. But that was