Sad, sad realizations

When I was around 5 years old, my grandma gave me a big box, about the size of a tv. 

I decided that I was going to turn that box into my very own Batmobile. 

I drew tires on the side, cut holes in the front that I could sit inside and shine flashlights out of for headlights. I think I even drew the bat-symbol on the back. 

Then, I had an ingenious idea. 

I made a grappling hook for my car. I took a large roll of string, tied one end to a  pencil, and attached the spool itself to my car.

I literally had visions of me throwing the pencil at things, then winding the spool as my Batmobile inched closer and closer. 

After many attempts, trying to throw the pencil at different things, it would never actually wrap around an object like Indiana Jones' whip, so I jumped out and tied it onto something, jumped back in the Batmobile and started winding. The slack pulled tight, tighter and then the string broke. 

My grappling hook fucking sucked. All of those mini-action cartoons in my head of me scaling the side of the house in my homemade crime fighting wagon were demolished with the snapping of that single string. 

Fast forward 20 years. 

I see a video online of how you can mod a normal laser pointer into the same type of laser pointers people pay thousands of dollars for. The kind that can cut through objects and burn anything. Even people. 

The kid in me comes alive. I can see myself chasing the cats, Susanne, carving my name in trees, basically being a modern day supervillain. 

I get on Amazon, order a cheap laser pointer and the tools to do the mod. 

After nearly an hour cussing at the damn thing trying to break the safety seal, I get it open, use my new micro screwdriver, tweak the screw that is supposed to make it stronger, and then haphazardly put it back together. It looks like a duct tape covered fountain pen, but holy shit, anyone who makes fun of it is getting a laser sized hole straight through their forehead. And then...

The fucking thing doesn't work. 

Immediately, I will never be a supervillain. 

I will never get to don a cape and hide in the bushes on campus, setting freshmen on fire. I will never get to hide in the trees outside my apartment and pop the mailman's truck tires with my laser. I will never walk into a bank and... well, you get the idea. 

There is no worse feeling than realizing weeks of dreaming were just dreams themselves.