Do I look like epiphany material?

Having an epiphany means experiencing a sudden, striking, and often enlightening realization or understanding, often about something that previously seemed unclear or insignificant. 

Well…I don’t know.

I would like to have an epiphany…

But I don’t know.

I think maybe I’m not epiphany material.

I wont be sitting under any apple trees anytime soon.

Flashes of inspiration are few and far between for The Gloomy Boomer. When was the last time I was inspired…by anything? I don’t remember. These days I kinda just sort of get by from day to day like a sleep walker. No, not like a sleep walker. Sleep walking requires ambition. A surge of determinism I lack. Once I hit the sack, I’m done. Getting back up and moving around, bumping into shit, is not why I went to bed in the first place. If I had my way, I would sleep for twenty years, like Rip Van Winkle. Rip Van Winkle. What was that all about anyway? He went bowling with dwarfs, right? Then he fell asleep for twenty years. Is that it?

I looked it up

A short story by Washington Irving. In the story, Rip is a guy kind of like me. Lazy and easy-going. He likes to sit around and shoot the breeze with various no-accounts. Nice people, mainly. Unlike me, he’s stuck with a wife who’s not so nice. She’s constantly ragging his ass to get a job. Or get a better job. One day she’s nagging the shit out of him, as usual, and he’s taking it, as usual. But then, he kinda snaps. He’s had his fill. He grabs his dog and goes off into the woods.

He hears thunder in the distance. But it aint the weather. It’s these bearded dudes playing a bowling game called nine pins. He don’t know it, but these dudes are Ghosts from a Dutch Ship wreak. They offer him a drink of some kind of shit puts him to sleep. That’s right. He goes to sleep and he sleeps for twenty years….when he wakes up finally his dog is dead and he’s wearing a foot long beard. With difficulty he makes it back to the village and discovers a way bigger village. His wife is dead. A strange man and woman turn out to be his children. They don’t believe it’s him. Their Old Man’s been missing for twenty years. Then it dawns on them, it really is him, their long lost father. I don’t know if they buy his story. But they accept him and take him in. They’re good Kids wanna take care of their long lost dad. He goes back to his routine of hanging out with no-accounts…the few of them that’re still alive. He’s not so sad his wife is dead. Matter of fact, he’s relieved.

Meanwhile, everything has changed. I mean, everything. Rip Van Winkle is no longer a loyal subject of King George the 3rd. While he was sleeping the country had a revolutionary war. Rip Van Winkle is now a loyal subject of the United States Of America.

I just had a mini epiphany!

What if I drank some shit and went to sleep and slept for, say, four long years? That’s right. Slept right through to the end of Trumpy’s rule. Slept until these Swine are no longer in the white house.

Slept right through to the end of the terms of these two-faced sanctimonious nasty stupid excuses for human beings. I would call them Swine but that would disparage a species more intelligent and moral than this troop of nasty-ass clowns.

Wake up after four years to discover all of them gone including this dude. I forget his name. Elon something. Wake up to find he’s stranded on Mars. Good place for him.

No, but now I’m thinking about it…could take longer than four years

Trumpy could be around for a third term!

Or maybe even president for life!

Elon-something could figure out a way to keep him alive for another hundred years.

Now I’m thinking about it, I may have to sleep for way way longer than four years. Sleep and sleep and sleep and sleep and just keep on sleeping until all this shit we’re in right now is washed away. Maybe sleep for a hundred million years to get past all this shit.

Wake up to find this.

Wake up to find myself in more civilized company.

Would you call this an epiphany? Naw, just wishful thinking.