Tis but a Bitter Part in this Play We Call Life

Feeling a little too adequate?

Feeling a little too adequate?

Have you ever felt too adequate? Ever felt way too appreciated by all the Twitter followers you bought for $99? Ever felt like your uniqueness as person has made you a little too special? Your athletic talent made you feel vastly superior to everyone else? Ever felt like your voice was so much better than other people’s that you should get paid lots of money for it? Yeah, I know. Being that great is a burden that is almost too much to bear. We all feel for you. And we are here for you.Β  We know how being perfect can make you feel so alienated from the rest of us. And I know it can be hard always seeing nothing but blue skies and sunny days. You’ve got your standing ovation ending right?

The end. Roll credits.

The people’s names scrolling down the screen right now…these people worked all these hours on your movie. The director, the producers, the cinematographer, the key grip, the set designer, even the other actors in your life spent 100’s of hours, millions of dollars and moved millions of atom particles around for your life movie. The hype machine is rolling and everyone’s going to love it right? There is just one little thing.

This one little speck of dust in your universe. This bitter burr in your side. This fly in the ointment. This spur in your shoe. This John McClane to your Hans Gruber.

A fly in the ointment.

A fly in the ointment.

There is this little Bitter Blogger that is here to help. He will help you remember that you are but a tiny speck of dust compared to the rest of the universe. He will remind you that your favorite movie had a happy ending after all the suffering, but that things happen after the credits. He will remind you that your favorite happy memory is in the past. He will help you remember that you aren’t an author like you wanted to be, you aren’t the firemen you said you were going to be when you grew up, and you aren’t a pretty, pretty pegasus princess with a huge crown, and a castle to run.

If you listen really carefully, this bitter blogger is ready to help that surefire Box Office Smash success of yours turn into the WaterWorld, Lone Ranger, and The Adventures of Pluto Nash all rolled into one in a hurry with just a few easy steps. Come listen to the soothing sounds of fingers on a chalkboard, come feel the deep down crushing failure as it seeps through your bones and glance at your life’s work as it gets crushed in an instant like the Soda Pressing guy.

This is soda pressing.

This is soda pressing.

Just remember that there are no small parts in your play, just small bitter people that are willing to help you become more bitter.


Bitter Part Being Played Ben


37 thoughts on “Tis but a Bitter Part in this Play We Call Life

  1. I’m having flashbacks of my childhood of my mom shooting down every big career I wanted. Doctor= you can’t handle blood and guts. Archeologist= your phobia of snakes. Astronaut= your claustrophobia. Funny post!!


  2. Before the end rolls…the one who is successful has moved on , not wasting anytime on past achievement . There is no time for entertaining a bitter blogger who has lots of bitterness , which is not needed for a person of such a stature…After the end..names that roll is turned off…but the story line lingers in mind….but hey! you don’t know…because you are slow πŸ™‚
    na na na na…aaaaaaaaaaarggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhh


  3. i’m not sure (nor am I sure you may or may not have been sure) what this was about. so, of course, i’ll continue. I REALLY felt like having a beer at about 10 this a.m. but somehow have held off ’til a few minutes from now when I get up off the couch. I tend to grow butt-roots into the couch-cushions so it’s more diffy/occult than it should be to get up. and then if, due to humidity or universal stoopydnous, or whatever, you perspire and axially STICK to the couch.

    oh yeah, in your case, there could AND SHOULD be an entire BITTER SERIES of movies about your life and what your life seems to be. but it’s mostly how it’s perceived. I just threw that in ’cause it sounds like I should have been wearing a tweed jacket (with pants on, and shoes). speakin’ of, I just have shorts (no sox) and a dirty t-shirt rite now but you already knew that.

    in my royal court in the future when I beckumm emperor of whatever universe, or perhaps a smaller part of the universe, you will definitely/deafeningly be asked to be the MINISTER (& ADVISOR) OF ALL THINGS BITTER. the call might not come real soon, but …


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