self-talkOctober 13, 2006
[insert a long narrative about emotions that can’t be described, followed by more ranting about what these emotions stem from, and what triggered them recently, all of which doesn’t fit well in any language the author knows]
*sigh* “So,” the writer stated after a long drawn pause the resembled the length of time between sips of coffee, “I think that some people are just wrong. Its that simple. I’ve been evaluating things, and though I’d probably do some of it differently, I still think that some people are just wrong.”
Again, another pause, this time, to pull a ketchup-drenched, truck stop fry to his mouth, chew, and think some more before continuing. “And don’t get me wrong, I’d could tell this to anyone, and they would get personally offended. So I tell you. And only you. But, just for the record, this isn’t about anyone in particular. If anything, its probably about me, or everyone, or no body at all.” Sip. “Anyway, I’ve been watching people do stuff for some 21 years, and I just can’t help but think that there are people out there who, regardless of how they decide to live their lives, or what they think the basic tenets of life should be, they are wrong. Plain and simple. And I can say that. I’m an authority of my own reality, and no one is going to prove me wrong on this. No one can.”
A quick refill from the heavy-set, drawling waitress, and another long slurp of black coffee. “However, I reserve the right to change at any time. I am the writer, keeper, distributor, chronicler, teacher, reporter, believer, philosopher of my own story, of my own history. This little monopoly is closed-circuited, open-ended, ever-evolving.”
“But damn it, sometimes, it just feels good to not grow for a while. Its so tiring, constantly trying to better ourselves, every waking moment. It makes the opposition stronger, and it makes the fielding harder to bear.” A shake of the head. “There is so much time between true birth and true death, why rush things. Learn slowly, and things are better grasped. Embrace that dark part of everything, and the learning is more complete. It can’t always be all rainbows and sunshine. And who would want that anyway? That’s boring. Its not natural.” Slurp. “That’s not life.”
And so he paid his bill, took his coat, and trampled out into the driving snow of things, constantly climbing uphill. I sat in wonder.