Tuesday, June 5, 2012

Water for Thirst

Sometimes my life, like watching fireworks on TV, just doesn’t work.

If this were the 1800’s I’d either be a village elder looked up to and sought after for my wisdom or dead. Since I’m not dead, yet, I must have answers to some of life’s most puzzling questions.
         
Every single human being on the face of the earth, even those with the mental capacity of a pea has, at one time asked, why was I born? I don’t know why they were born but I know why I was; two people decided to start the New Year off with a bang. My parents never came right out and said I was conceived as an opening salvo for the New Year but, I’m an October baby, do the math. According to a survey done by anybirthday.com October 5th, my husband’s cake-day, is the most common birthday in the US, most likely because of its gestational distance from one year’s slide into another.

In my family, and my husband’s, fucking in the New Year is a tradition. We have October 1, 5, 10, 12 and 14 covered for birthdays. I work with another 1; and I have friends that are the 2, 4 and 20 which may or may not qualify.  So if any of them asked me why they were born I have a pretty good answer as to why, with a side note that alcohol was probably a contributing factor.

As the village elder I might also be asked…why am I here? Well, you are here because you are not there. If you were there your life and existence, as a valuable component regarding the betterment of the current human condition, would most certainly be considered an influence beyond the realm of your familial societal condition. Which means, you’re a outsider and of little consequence.

I’ve always been an outsider doing, saying and accomplishing that which is considered beyond the norm. For my entire adult life I have strived for ‘the norm’ and have succeeded somewhat but the foundation on which my life has been built was stacked with bricks of fear and indecision and mortared with dreams, all of which have pretty much come true.

I was taught to believe talent, nurtured and relied upon like water for thirst, was what constructed a future and success. My teachers of this theroy, (my parents), were dead-assed wrong. Talent has very little to do with success and even less to do with happiness. Choice is the breeder of smiles and contentment, and the builder of bank accounts, if money is the carrot. I’m not into dollar bills; I’m into comfort, security and the need to worry less. I wish I had known about choice forty years ago when the brass ring was hurled my way. I thought talent would take me forward. No, being an asshole pushed me back. Can’t change the route once taken, can only change the number of the next exit.

I’m the elder, listen to me; I have the answers and if you don’t believe me, go back to your own room down the hall by the wheelchair entrance. They are really nice here don’t-cha-think?

2 comments:

Cooking on a Budget said...

I absolutely love your writing. I look forward to your break out novel.

hope said...

Love your logic in paragraph 2! Snort!
Also, I can relate to your description of your foundation. Lovely and apt!