Emergence of Donald Duck

When do you call a fallacy, a falsehood or a mere minor inconsistency with the truth?



This question seems to be the most prominent and adamant one that pops up in my head. The main philosophy that fills the thought-bubble of this animated life of mine.

My friends are well known within this terrarium of a community in Orange County.
This big amusement park, where clubs are the thrill rides and people outside our circle are mere spectators, tourists to the way of life we indulge in. We have a fast-pass to every place imaginable. Its as if Mickey Mouse himself rolls with us. The complete entourage, with Goofy, Pluto, Minnie, you name it we have it.

Characters… that’s what we are, and we are up and coming - Disney land circa 1920, black and white thrown into a mix of Technicolor.

Black and White was Mickey's world, and color is when I finally emerge forth into the picture. I walk and talk funny. I even dress like so. My sailor hat and a hanky around my neck, with a jacket that's too short for my own behind. I am a manufactured sidekick for Mickey, and what are sidekicks but an indicator species? That is when you know you are making big strides, and sidekicks are the telling sign.

I am the Donald Duck of the crew, trying hard to be serious and responsible yet no one ever takes me as so. They can’t get past my squeaky voice and the funny way I walk. Yet behind close doors I am the most reliable one.
But nobody will ever guess that;
See that even,
For I am Donald Duck.
I am there for laughs, and to ride the coat tails of Mickey to stardom. Peeking behind his gargantuan saucer plate ears.

I guess this is how it has got to be, within the comedy and aura of fun of it all, Donald is lost. He is finding himself, emerging from the feathers and big billed of a mouth that has suppressed his true self all along. But see no one is ready, and they never will be. I am forever either part of their crew, or not with them. What a fine line I walk. My story started as a mere accomplice never the mastermind pulling strings or the main character.


---------------------


So I take a step back and ask myself, will there ever be another role for me? A part that maybe I can emerge as my own. A selfish ambition, but talent without dream is as good as the smelly waters that fill the "Its a Small World Ride" in Anaheim. And yes indeed, this is a small world, too small of a world to contain me, the Don of all Ducks, waddling clumsily to his dream of soaring in the sky. But you know what, questioning my mere existence comes with its own set of revelations. And this mascot has decided that his story starts now.

The only problem with starting of as a duck is that you are stuck with feet too big for your own good. I am bound to step on other’s toes, an encroachment on their territory per se’ without even meaning too. I have big shoes to fill and nobody can really just fill them for me but my own. And once that boundary, that is your role, has been crossed, everybody starts to laugh, and then question:

“Who does this guy think he is?
Who is this guy we have amongst our ranks?
Where are all these ideas coming from?
Maybe those feet you were born with are indeed too big for your own good.
I know you’re born with wings, yet your ambitions are too lofty for you to reach.
Why the façade?”

So it goes back to the question whether fallacy is a falsehood or a mere inconsistency with the truth? I am currently stuck in a fallacy, for I live my life vicariously through others, and whatever spotlight is shown on me is but a magnification of my mishaps and accidents. I am comedic relief at its best. But I know better. That is the fallacy in my life, for I am more than that.

So I guess in conclusion, the falsehood wins out. I am part of this staged play, integrated and immersed neck deep. Their is no inconsistency with the truth, for I really am the guy that everybody knows, only that I have yet to break out of my goose-bumped skin, out of this porcelain calcium based shell. My best has yet to come, and it will have to take a reinvention of myself, along with a rededication of what is dear to me in order to achieve that.

Inversely, Am I not grateful enough for the life that I live? When I think of it in such a way, it warps my whole perception of having fun amidst all the distractions and lucrative endeavors I delve in. Yet inevitably, I have lost myself in the process… that I have no doubts of.

---------------------


People will pay anything to live this life of mine
Yet I would pay anything just to find my own.
To be the architect of my very own amusement park, complete with its own thrill rides, parades, tourists and the incessant children running around frantic from the sugar filled churros that they had ingested in collusion with the ADD induced persona due to the excitement of running around Disneyland amuck for a day.

One day it will come, but I have to work for it. And that day starts now.

…and from a distance you can hear the booming of Fireworks in the southern California night sky, marking the event of my arrival, undoubtedly.

This auditory and visual display, rings of only one thing.
Welcome back Donald.