Hang time is how long something stays in the air after it gets thrown or kicked. Poetically, I like to refer to how long you stick with something you set your mind to. Some things gotta get thrown or smacked pretty hard just one good time and they have a long hang time, like a golf ball or maybe a frisbee. Some things, you gotta hit over and over again to cover any distance. There's things in life you gotta dedicate yourself to every day, like exercise or waking up on time. I'm not a life advice expert or anything, but I like to share my perspective on things. I find it hard to hold conversations because I genuinely don't like small talk. I'm a pretentious, contrarian nutjob. I don't like superficial conversations about how you won $100 on a lottery ticket, I like talking about art and media, I like writing my thoughts down. On the other side of that, I enjoy my own masculinity. I enjoy being a walled off dude that's always working on himself - for better or for worse - something is always happening and I'm always striving for the next step towards literally anything. And when there's nothing, I still have myself and my body. I have these two things and I still have the ability to work within the world around me. There's a Death lyric:
Don't quote me here, I'm talking shit: 80% of people you run into throughout your life don't know how to fight. Roughly half of the remainder that CAN fight are probably out of shape. If you are punching something every day and keeping up on your cardio, you are ahead of the curve in the sense that you have a greater ability to directly affect the world around you. When you strip us down to the bones, your confidence in your ability to self-preserve in a zombie-apocolypse situation is a pretty good feeling. It should not make you feel high-and-mighty while you stroll around in public with your chest out, but it should make you feel confident enough that anyone in your company can enjoy themselves at the supermarket or the park more thoroughly.
I have not been the best provider lately. At times in my life, I was a hell of a provider, but lately I've been found lacking. It's a terrible feeling, one that bites at me anytime I give it thought or attention. If I am stripped down to my bones as a man - a provider and a protector - and I fail to provide, then I must maintain the ability to protect.
This is just my long-winded way of justifying how I'm feeling. To justify how I'm trying to maintain control of whats going on around me. This re-dedication ritual I have to do every day to keep sane is my deflated soccer ball (futball, football, shut up) I have to keep kicking down this muddy, flooded field.