The Story So Far
In which Chris, while attempting to provide some context for the image above, unwittingly (re)examines his life up to (and slightly past) the point of writing this post. (And has a brief, yet impassioned, flirtation with writing about himself in the third person.)
Chris is born.
Chris immediately begins to develop a facility for design (graphic), and writing (turns out blogging,) which, in retrospect, he realizes he would not apply in any appreciably productive way for decades to come.
Chris goes to school.
Chris drinks some alcohol.
Chris smokes. (Cigarettes. Because it makes him look cool. [Actually, it helps him feel comfortable in his own skin.])
Chris begins a young adulthood’s worth of, by and large, dysfunctional relationships with women. (And, believe me, he is more than willing to take credit for his part in the dysfunction.)
Chris goes to university. (Five, actually. Give or take. Fails to get a single degree.)
Chris drinks some alcohol. (And smokes a little weed.)
Chris drinks some more alcohol. (And drops a little acid.)
Chris drinks a lot of alcohol. (And drops a lot of E.)
Chris drinks a lot more alcohol . (And nasally inhales [i.e., snorts]—and smokes—some other stuff.*)
Chris, while continuing to drink a lot of alcohol despite it having long ago ceased to make him feel particularly good and, in fact, actually seems to make him feel worse, stops dropping, snorting and smoking stuff. (With the exception of cigarettes which he continues to smoke because it continues to make him look cool but refuses to drop or snort because that would just be fucking stupid.)
Chris stops drinking alcohol.
Chris works. (Figuring out how to get people interested in—and occasionally buy—a wide variety of stuff.)
Chris gets married to wonderful wife. ( Is “functional” really the opposite of “dysfunctional”? Because that doesn’t really do the relationship justice.)
Chris finds out he has MS. (And, you’ll have to trust him on this, but after the initial shock, he hasn’t been particularly troubled by it. In fact, he wouldn’t think about it at all if it weren’t for the shot he self-administers once a week.)
Chris loses job figuring out how to interest people in stuff.
Chris conveniently realizes he doesn’t want to do what he was doing anyway. (And hasn’t wanted to for a while.)
Chris freaks out just a tiny bit about what to do with his life. (Also, experiences a heaping soupçon of existential angst distinct from the freaking out directly related to his employment or lack thereof.)
Chris, with the encouragement and support of the aforementioned wonderful wife, takes tentative steps towards what some might call “pursuing his passions”. (Chris, however, pointedly refuses to refer to it as such.)
Chris designs some stuff. (And suspects he may be working out some issues.)
Chris designs some more stuff. (And is surprised by what he feels.)
Chris designs some more stuff. (And is surprised by what he sees.)
Chris sets up a blog.
Chris, with great trepidation, posts the initial stuff he designed to the blog
Chris designs some more stuff.
Chris posts the image at top. (And contemplates the possibly banal distinction between “possessed by” and“possessed of”.)
Chris writes this.
Chris smokes. (A cigarette.)
*Nota bene: If you have any intention of staging your own production based on this synopsis, this is the one scene I would absolutely recommend cutting.
The Substantial Triptych by Chris Aguirre / Wrath66 is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.