potential



Everyone has changed. Everyone is constantly pushing for more and more and more... and I wonder if they have never read the classics... and have they never seen the meaningful films? By the age of 45 they will be deeply in debt, deeply unhappy and will have a family that is disconnected and strained. I honestly believe that people press on in life with only the fairy tales in mind. They know only the romantic stories of happy ever after and therefore think that starting a family and buying a home is one long tale of love and bliss.
                For me the only life is one of solitude, music, literature, film, thought, contemplation, and alcohol. It is one that people do not understand and yet I believe that I have more fun than most people I know. Sure, they all go on their two international family vacations every year... and what is the joy? The pure joy in going somewhere is the potential... the potential for the unknown; a chance encounter, a passionate kiss, a night spent talking to a stranger on the beach, a random drunken dance with laughter surrounded by unknown faces... these are the things that make life enjoyable. Please do not tell me that these things are even remotely possible in marriage and with children.
                In a few words I am able to bring silence. And the words that result in silence are always nothing but the truth. People do not want truth; they want to know that some divine intervention is orchestrating their life with a wonderful plan for a happy ending. I almost can’t write that without laughing. But life can be enjoyable even without the safety net of fairy tales.
                And then you have to spend a night alone... and god forbid it be a Friday or a Saturday... oh the treachery of it all. How could you possibly spend one night the way I spend almost every night of my existence? What will you tell your friends and colleagues on Monday morning? You had a quiet weekend? Surely not. Anything but that.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

San Diego & Las Vegas

Image
  The flight to San Diego was delayed, but only after we were in the plane. At first, there’d been a terminal change that I almost failed to notice, but I made it easily to the correct gate just as boarding was beginning. Upon boarding, I couldn’t get the arm to retreat into my bag, so I couldn’t get it into the overhead locker the way it was supposed to go. After much fuss and, finally, a guy somehow hitting it back in, we were told there was a delay due to a maintenance issue. After 45 minutes, the issue was resolved and the very same second of the announcement we had a lightning strike. The captain informed us that each lighting strike triggers a fifteen-minute wait period to ensure the sky is clear. In total, we sat on the runway for just over two and a half  hours before finally taking off. The morning had been one of joy, for I was on vacation and my ear infection had almost entirely disappeared. I could hear for the first time in seven days. I made breakfast and then a sandwich
Read more

no reply

Image
  You come to me in my dreams at night. It is frequent, and I don’t understand it. It was precisely 11 years ago that we met. It only took me two weeks to fall in love. 11 years have passed, and there has not been a day that I have not thought about you. I think it has been 7 years since we last met. In the dream last night, we sensed each other on a sports field, then we embraced. We were suddenly in an aquarium with others… we escaped to a secret room that started to drop like a faulty elevator. I was certain we would be crushed, like the scene in Star Wars where Luke, Leia, and Chewy are caught in the trash shoot with the closing walls. Crushed by walls and by desire. We kissed… it became heated and sexual. Then I awoke to a deep longing and a sense of despair. I sent a message to wish France well for their game in the Euros that day, but mostly to make contact. There was no reply.
Read more

winter

Image
  The winter wind howls outside. It explores the windows, looking for gaps and fragilities. The temperature drops and I find myself thinking of the stray cat who has become my friend. Where does he hide? Why will he not come inside? What has he been through? We spend a few moments together each day and I feed him. Then it is time for some human interaction… but, you see, most of them are not listening. Most of them don’t care at all. It’s seven weeks since my mother passed away, I miss her each and every day. For others, it seems to be forgotten history. And, I suppose, it is not reasonable for me to expect more than that. I remember the day that my grandmother, my mother’s mother, died. We made it just in time to her bedside. We’d driven from the south of England, where I lived, up to the north, to the town I was born in (the town all of my family had been born in). I walked into the ward first and saw a lady lying in a bed with nurses nearby. I asked the nurses where Winnie was and o
Read more