Thursday, January 21, 2010

Sandcastle

There's a lot of stuff that I should be doing.

I have lots of work to do so I really should be doing that. I should be working...slaving away hour after hour over lines of code and design. I should be filling out endless product forms and calculating interests and expenses.

I should be writing a lot more too. Im behind on general literary excellence and proving myself to be a grammatical narcissist rather than a real writer. I have a book in my head that is long overdue...actually about four of them. And I simply cannot express how dismayed I am that I am procrastinating on the composition of article upon article that I feel needs to be written in order to save the peoples of the world.

I'm sitting on an article about tolerance for example. But I have waited on writing it for so long that its getting far too short to really make any sense. By the time its written I think either war will have expunged the need of it or people will all just get along by virtue of the immortal words of Rodney King.

What is it with these King people by the way? Martin Luther...Rodney? I like Kings.

I need to start playing my guitar again. The last time I picked one up in a public place I blamed the sound it made on leaking pipes and a woman that was coughing up her lungs in some private corner of the bar I was in. It goes without saying that my piano skills are draining away. I didnt even bother to move my piano into my townhouse. It's sitting all by its lonesome in a dark reachless corner collecting dust and the atoms of fallout from Hiroshima and Nagasake. I actually hope that wherever I left it is haunted by ghosts that like to amuse themselves with knockings, table rapping and the occassional sonata played upon its keys.

My living quarters arent as neat as they should be. There are few virtues of being a real bachelor. Unlike the TV show, which I shamelessly record on my DVR and watch while I work out, I really only clean my dishes once a week or so. And I dont remember the last time that I vacuumed. Honestly, I think my dust bunnies are breeding like the rabbits they are and leaving my field of dreams in a shamble of fallen hedonistic hubris.

My printers need ink. I need to clean my bathroom mirrors. I havent bothered to set up my guest bedroom since I moved in. My neon star that I paid a grand for is sitting idly under the palm tree by my work desk. My refridgerator is lean. My favorite boots are worn. I havent played Uno in a century. And there are no staples in either of my staplers.

Disaster.

Somewhere along the line I just said fuck it. That's right. I'm even too put off to remain civil. I have resorted to linguistic terrorism...flying the friendly skies with armed dispatches of verbal Hamas and Al Qaeda.

I have simply experienced too much garbage...too many brick walls and abyssal canyons for the amount of effort I have put into living the common life of a human being. It's not that I ever expected things to be easier. I just expected things to be worth it.

Life is disappointing. People betray you. Puppies die young. Love doesnt last. And I still havent won the lottery or figured out how exactly to wear a ballcap with a tie or to part with my childhood comic book collection.

I recall the words in the movie 'The Shawshank Redemption.' "Get busy livin...or get busy dyin."

What if you just cant make up your mind?

I'm really great at marveling at life, the universe and everything. I always love like I've never lost before. And I floss my teeth because my dentist told me to.

I build stuff...lots of stuff. But so like Ozymandias, these sandcastles erode in time and I find that all splendor is fading... like daylight dying away to dusk.

There is only one sure point of life that carries meaning. And that is service. So I simply occupy my time with that by joining this group and that group and by doing my best to save all the damsels in distress that come my way.

So there it is. I have lots of stuff that I should be doing. I suppose I really cant make excuses because I find that I myself am simply another sandcastle slipping away under the changing tides of time. So like the stars in the sky, all of my personal loves are but memories and echoes. There is no sun on my face. There is only the moon and that light I see by reflection. And it has begun to comfort me.

We all find a meaning at our ease. But it is when we are tested that we search to the core for it. It is within the humility of not knowing, not planning, not doing that something begins to do just that. Perhaps something greater on the inside will take action at last and check my mailbox, or water my plants or finally change my lightbulb in the closet.

Until then I am grateful that I have recorded several episodes of 'Family Guy' to keep me posted on humanity and to see to it that I am active, periodically productive and well enough motivated to raise a glass on a Friday night and shout a cheers with my best mates...

To life...
...


1 comment:

Brittany said...

Lets play Uno and watch Family Guy! :)

Remember, when life gives you lemons, make lemonade!

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