Wednesday, August 13, 2003
The illusion is that there are a good number of things in this life that you can truly rely on.
The truth is that the majority of the things in this life you rely on can suddenly become illusory and therefore be pulled out from under you at any moment.
Your job? You could suddenly lose it. as in today. Your love? They could be gone, packed and on a plane, train, automobile when you walk in the door after a long day’s work. Even your damn dog could run away, leaving you with nothing but a six pack of Sam Adams and your MTV, providing you paid your cable bill and don’t have a crazy alcoholic uncle living in your guest bedroom.
This is not to say that life is a big pile of crap. Far from it. Neither is it to say that you should assume the worst. I’m a firm believer in rose tinted glasses and keeping a stiff upper lip, but rose tinted glasses are not necessarily blue blockers, and straight up, no matter what preconceived notions you have about this that and the other thing, all of the above and more can do a backflip with a triple lutz before you've had a chance to say yahtzee. The theme here folks is you can’t control what other people, agencies, animals, forces of nature, whatevers, do. You just can’t.
Expect the best but be prepared for the worst. Reality can be a harsh little hoo-ah.
Ok now before you start sending me e-cards with cute little dolphins saying pithy things like “stay up tiger” or subscribing me to the fruitcake of the month club so I can properly wallow in my misery, please believe that none of these observations are necessarily applicable to my current state of being, even to my future or past, but are simply harsh facts of the world we live in that must be faced if you don’t want to get whacked across the head with a two by four without at least being braced for the impact.
Vincent van Gogh was prepared for the impact. So much so maybe that he couldn’t stand the tension anymore and decided he’d save the world some time and do the deed himself. Shot himself in the chest at 36. the chest! What the hell? He staggered on, half alive, for another 2 or 3 days before he finally kicked the bucket. The chest. Who the hell shoots themselves in the chest? That’s like, ok I wanna die, but I wanna be able to hang out for a few days afterward to ponder my impending doom. I wonder if they drugged his ass up, how lucid he was for that short time. Did he regret pulling that trigger? Was he excited, scared? Happy? Relieved?
Jesus fukn Christ I sound like a pessimistic bastard today.
I read in sports illustrated today that it was Satchel Paige, famous of the old time Negro leagues, that came up with that saying “love like you’ve never been hurt, dance like nobody’s watching, etc.” and I think it works. I really really do. You have to. What other choice is there? Turn into a bitter old codger because little suzy Johnson wouldn’t go to the paradise under the sea dance with you in 8th grade? Shit no. you HAVE to be prepared to accept happiness. You gotta be prepared to fight for that shit, tooth and nail. But you have to also accept when life serves you up a turd sandwich, let go of the reins, take your whuppin, and come back for second, third, fourth helpings. Shit, whatever it takes.
Really people, my mind is just wandering away. Fuk I could do a face plant on my keyboard after a gran mal seizure, my ghost flitting away into the corners of my office, staring at my already decaying bod, and think, “well, that was a nice ride.”
First thing I’d do is fly over to the college and stare at Mrs. P for like a good two hours. I’d be like all ghostly and wouldn’t be able to touch her, make her see me, describe to her how much I love her, but I’d be able to at least watch her. See her one last time before I head up to the pearly gates or down to the pits, whatever Joe-Bob the master of all he surveys has planned for me. That’s really about it, maybe float over the ocean and have a sniff of an in-n-out burger. Can spirits smell? Good question.
I'm gonna go to lunch and find a fukn flower to smell or something cuz the noggin is headin' in some weird directions. peace.