Thoughts on secondary characters

My favorite characters have always been the secondary comic relief characters.

The comic relief characters never seem very smart usually but things seem to work out for them, depending on what kinda movie (or story) it is. The thing is they don’t get “the girl” or find anything too substantial or fulfilling for themselves, but they are glad as hell  when their friend (the main character) works through their problems. Maybe it’s because  they aren’t looking for any fulfillment or love, or maybe they are only hiding the fact that they have nothing but themselves. To the Funny secondary characters, there is an underlying desperation about them that intrigues me because it’s way more human. It is because despite the trials and victory of the main hero, that ability to make light of the situation with a joke, blissfully unaware in silliness is a kind of enlightenment.

They aren’t a main force or a decider, they don’t question where they are, they go with wherever they are taken. They fill a role rather  than upset order, offering commentary on the struggles between villains and heroes, no matter which side they are on. The desperation is in their desire to achieve something, to do something meaningful, but not know the way. They want to be the hero but retain a doubt, a more encompassing perspective that seems like it’s always holding them back. It is the fear that they have  no bearing on the world that isn’t by accident or a foolish blunder. They only make things happen when they aren’t trying to make things occur, and Their efforts to help are always met with imposable challenges that go awry.

Hero’s and Villains, despite whatever ideals they strive for, can only be concerned with their struggle, where those around them enter and exit. Both are kind of selfish and crazy in their own way because they use others to meet their goals. Comic relief’s are loyal to a fault and although they want the same things as their hero, they will never get the recognition or the acclaim.

The lone comic relief could be seen as a depressing character, comedy, in the infinite ironies of the universe, seems to be based on the contrast that great tragedy must be so. Alas, it is those people who make the world brighter that are likely more aware of the darkness. And only hope can we realize the secondary character finds their time to be a hero.

I like to think that that’s how I’m perceived, one of those questionably affiliated odd people who is generally seen as a good person helping people without really realizing it. But one day I hope to find a time worth being a hero for. Just a thought.

Secondary Characters

My favorite characters have always been the secondary comic relief characters who are usually the main character’s best friend.

The comic relief characters never seem very smart usually but things seem to work out for them, depending on what kinda movie (or story) it is. The thing is they don’t get “the girl” or find anything to substantial or fulfilling for themselves, but they are glad as hell  when their friend (the main character) works through their problems. Maybe it’s because  they aren’t looking for any fulfillment or love, or maybe they are only hiding the fact that they have nothing but themselves. To the Funny secondary characters, there is an underlying desperation about them that intrigues me because it’s way more human. It is because despite the trials and victory of the main hero, that ability to make light of the situation with a joke, blissfully unaware in silliness is a kind of enlightenment.

They aren’t a main force or a decider, they don’t question where they are, they go with wherever they are taken. They fill a role rather  than upset order, offering commentary on the struggles between villains and heroes, no matter which side they are on. The desperation is in their desire to achieve something, to do something meaningful, but not know the way. They want to be the hero but retain a doubt, a more encompassing perspective that seems like it’s always holding them back. It is the fear they have that they have no bearing on the world that isn’t by accident or a foolish blunder. They only make things happen when they aren’t trying to make things occur, and Their efforts to help are always met with imposable challenges that go awry.

Hero’s and Villains, despite whatever ideals they strive for, can only be concerned with their struggle, where those around them enter and exit. Both are kind of selfish and crazy in their own way because they use others to meet their goals. Comic relief’s are loyal to a fault and although they want the same things as their hero, they will never get the recognition or the acclaim.

The lone comic relief could be seen as a depressing character, comedy, in the infinite ironies of the universe, seems to be based on the contrast that great tragedy must be so. Alas, it is those people who make the world brighter that are likely more aware of the darkness. And only hope can we realize the secondary character finds their time to be a hero.

In a room Trying to quit smoking.

The therapist let Fred take any seat he wanted. Fred was afraid of being “The Guy”  seeing a therapist and laying on the cushioney couch like some kind of cleshe so he went to the chair by his desk.

“You can begin anytime” The therapist said.

Fred began to speak, but somehow, now the image of laying on the cushony couch seemed comfortable to him so he got up, still talking and laid down. Until that point he was only covering how he’d been and little facts about his life. But on the couch he felt snug and comfortable enough to really talk. Fred was a poet, and fancied that he would have been a good actor if he had applied himself to it. So naturally he had a flair for drama and big words. he spoke like this:

“I’m so plagued with desire.” he said “It’s a nagging; it’s an unstoppable torrent of Introspective meanderings, whimpering on gripping vices of whims. That-  that desire can be as indomitable as some monolithic Buddha with the grey stone power to crush me one moment, and then in the next moment just seem like wisps welling on the wind”

The therapist nodded knowingly as Fred thought for a moment.

“What could conjure such a comical horror as to supplant a mind to chase desires and thoughts from one extreme to the other in this….It can only be a comedy. Life is just a satire of itself, our fleeting emotions and problems, our tragedies and dilemmas, are just the dilemmas of ants.

Truly, I hope that while i’m trying to grasp my desires or hold back on their pull with the madness of some kinda lone waiter trying to serve the world, that something cosmic is laughing at me. Then at least I’d know i’m doing something good.”

Fred stared at the ceiling as he spoke.

“When in a lonely night, the rising thoughts, and the panic, and the naked truth of my being arises from the distractions of the world… and I shudder without anyplace to cower; when you compare that to a warm night with the closeness of another and my mind is propped up with a fools superiority, I hope that something somewhere enjoys the way I defeat myself.”

The therapist nodded knowingly. Fred had tears in his eyes and reached out his hand as if yearning for a gossamer ribbon.

“In a morning wilder, to bathe in satisfaction It is to live like the beasts inside and remain, lost from the world beyond our eyes, lost from the higher order that we ideally strive for. Letting go of it where the memory reminds us and persuades back to the coveted halls of loving self destruction.

It’s such tangled web of this and that.

And I cant tell you why I enjoy that. I get the web. I see how it all connects and how we pull on one string and it pulls another. But I cant explain it. And so we hide with vice and beer and acts and demeanor which proves only to the world. I need to prove things to myself.”

The therapist nodded knowingly before Fred lifted himself from the couch on his arm.

“It’s just that life IS so unfair. People had told me that all my life, i just never realized how unfair it was until now.” Fred was sweating. “Listen doc, I gotta be honest with you.”

“Hmm?” the Therapist said.

“I really want a smoke.”

The therapist nodded knowingly before leaning back in his swivel chair. It was the old metal kind with the cushon and it squeaked with an awful noise. “Well Fred, you admitted yourself into this program because you wanted results, and cold turkey is how you wanted to do it.”

Fred wiped his eyebrow. “I know that, but I…I changed my mind.”

The therapist nodded knowingly.

“Did you hear me doc, I CHANGED MY MIND!”

The Therapist leaned forward before saying “You’re not in control of your mind anymore.”

He pushed a button and two men came in and took Fred away as he kicked and screamed, back to his cell.

5/6/15

A whisper runs through my mind,

for forgotten realms and lost times,

that the past is set and so clear to read,

and today is so muddled in future’s greed.

This is how the past has unfurled.

But how will the future be discovered?