I was just thinking about jugglers. Because, of course I’m thinking about jugglers. They are kind of like the Olympians. Stay with me here. When you see a juggler you are like, “Wow.” But then your brain starts to deaden to their tricks. Like Olympians. You start to be unimpressed. You start to have fantasies in your head about how you could do it. I could juggle. I could luge. I could do ski acrobatics. Meanwhile I can’t even motivate to get to the gym.
But forget about Olympians. They are lauded and adored and given medals. Think about the poor juggler. Their worst trick, the one they do to open, juggling two balls with one hand, is really, really, crazy hard and impressive. But we aren’t impressed. So, they juggle more balls. So many balls. And then plates. And then spinning plates and juggling balls. Then climbing a tower of sticks to sits on a 80 foot unicycle and still it’s not enough. So they have to do all that and then make the stuff they juggle weird and big or heavy or sharp or frickin’ on fire! And the only reason they stop topping themselves to please us assholes is because they don’t want to die.
How sad would it be to see a juggler juggle so hard that they died? It seems like a metaphor about how humans are so damn hard to please and amaze. In honor of jugglers everywhere, I’m going to be better about just appreciating their basic juggling and stop making them risk their lives for my insatiable appetite to be entertained so we all don’t end up in the Thunderdome death games.
That’s what I was thinking about jugglers. Welcome to my brain.

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