Pretend Playing

"I haven't played with G.I. Joes since I was 8." Those were the words I told to my mother when she asked me why I hadn't played with my latest 13th birthday present. After all, I was now a teenager. One of maturity. An age of landmark and growth growing. The time to pretend, to imagine myself living with abandon through my little toy army men, was long past with my childhood. I was no longer a child so why should anyone expect me to act like one?

Let me tell you about your life, or at least one day of it. When the day comes when you find yourself not play-pretending to be someone else, look around and notice how meaningful and seriously monochromatic everything has become. How long has it been since you were a princess or warrior? The latest movie perhaps? When was the last time you played as a rescuer or someone to be rescued? How many toys meant for pure fiction do you own?

"Meaningless! Meaningless! Everything is meaningless! What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again, there is nothing new under the sun." -King Solomon, 300BC. Supposedly the wisest man who ever lived would describe your search for a life of meaning as fucking retarded. Dolphins play with ships hundreds of times their size. Monkeys play tag. Kittens play hunting. Dogs chase balls. Puppies pounce on each other. Mice run in wheels. And you're too busy/old/mature/responsible to play pretend?

If you pretended to someone else for a day, whoever you wanted to be, no one would blame you. I certainly wouldn't. I pretend to be someone else as much as possible, which isn't nearly often or often enough.

I pretend to be Raiden from Mortal Kombat (yes, the video game) because I would like to be made of lightning. I pretend to be Batman, inventing new tools for my toolbelt by imagining ways to climb telephone poles. I pretend to be a rockstar master guitarist with a husky throbbing voice that enthralls women. I pretend to be an unbeatable hand-to-hand combat personthing. I am a starfighter, Red Five standing by, stay on target! I am a artist of charcoal and clay, so I can sculpt your face from mud and paint it with bits of plants and pedals. I am a rich inventor kidnapped by hostile terrorists, so I invent an iron suit powered by a nuclear reactor that allows me to fly.

I've forgotten what I was supposed to be taking seriously, how about you?