The Matrix Reloaded Review

Randomly one weekend I walk into a party with confidence and a bit of a swagger, but with just enough vulnerability and insecurities because I have previously never met a soul in attendance. I know I am cool and I fully believe I can impress the hell out of every single person I meet, yet I have no reason to be overconfident because nothing is yet proven. As the night goes on I can feel that everyone there admires the way I fit in so naturally and even what little flaws I have that are apparent are actually endearing rather than troubling. They are drawn to me because I flow from place to place so effortlessly and with authenticity, and as the night winds down and I announce my exit, the shift in mood is palpable, the joy and excitement that resonated in every moment is slowly drained away. Regardless, the night was a massive, life altering success, and as the others come to grips with my absence, rather than bemoan the void in the atmosphere the narrative shifts to one of anticipation of the next time they will see me. Sure, the disappointment of an amazing night ending still lingers, but it does so behind genuine smiles and the newly born memories of a special experience. "God I can't wait to see that guy again!" they say about me as they climb into their cars to head home themselves. "I could hang out with him every single night and never get tired of it!" is uttered by someone, and the thought is met with nearly universal agreement.

Over the next few years, I have spent countless nights revisiting that same group of people over and over and I remain the coolest guy in the room. I was original, I was unique, and it is a fact that no one there had ever met anyone like me before. I may not have returned to that party every night, every week or even every month for that matter, but I will always be there if I am needed. When a life becomes joyless, when an imagination needs to be sparked or simply when things feel bland and a dose of excitement is prescribed, I will walk through those doors and all will be right in the world. 

I am The Matrix.

Then one day I walk into that same party with an overwhelming amount of confidence and a ridiculous swagger, feeling no vulnerabilities or insecurities, absolutely nothing but a sublime belief that I am the only thing that matters in that room and nothing will ever be as cool as me. I have a larger than life presence that practically forces everyone in attendance to follow me with their eyes, but I feel no urge to make eye contact back. These people are beneath me and my existence is a blessing that enhances their own. As the night goes on I remain the center of attention, but something about the experience tastes sour this time around. They are drawn to me because I move from room to room with arrogance, but the effort needed to present this new persona is noticeable. As I announce my exit, minds consider what the proper emotional reaction for my departure should be. I had my moments that thrilled and reminded everyone of the old me, the one that could do no wrong, and these moments reignited a hope that I had returned to form, that a new yet equally amazing night would be in store for them. On the other hand, those dazzling moments were in fact few and far between, and the night that began with so much promise had ended lathered in disappointment, frozen behind frowns and a collection of memories that the guests may wish to forget. "Lord was that a bummer." they say about me as they climb into their cars to head home themselves. "I'm not sure I will ever want to hang out with that guy again." is uttered by someone, and the thought is met with nearly universal agreement. 

Over the next few years, I spent most nights waiting by the phone wishing they would call, wondering if perhaps I wasn't as cool as I considered myself to be. 

I am The Matrix Reloaded.

2.5/5