Free for the Taking
Memories are like traitors in war time. I trust them until they turncoat and even then part of me wants their company again. I want to be a writer. I was going to write that I want to share, but that’s not true. I want to find truth and beauty, two things above all. This life I have been dealt is too easy a one to lead. I have family that loves me endlessly, a small number of very good friends who would march into hell with me, a secure job in a time most Americans think their job is endangered, a dog that curls up on the end of my bed at night to keep my feet warm. I have all these things but something is amiss. Those I share these thoughts with blame aberrant feelings on a dead love life, but even when the love of many women was hottest I had nothing but emotional turmoil: the highs were higher and lows were lower. None of those women were something ethereal, something magical, something fantastic, as love is sold to us. Instead they filled up time and stole energy, which then couldn’t be spent obsessing about the “minor” but all too powerful details of life. This is what the ‘L’s’ are: a tool of consumption so the resources consumed cannot be used to make cuts at the self. Love and Life, both sold to us as if they are some all infinite cosmic absolute to which all human beings must aspire. Learn to live, learn to love, said the snickering Frenchman in the corner. They’re the soul juice we’re supposed to sip through a curly straw with fancy sunglasses on while sitting on a white sand beach getting sunburned happily. Welcome, spread your towel, read the paper perhaps (nothing’s changed) and aspire to rote existence, just like the rest of us. See, we found it. It makes the life complete. Join the party. It helps us get through the day, and it is all yours, free for the taking, with just a little effort and a smile. Effort and a smile ladies and gentlemen, effort and a smile, free for the taking.