life and love and some other stuff i threw in
I really can't watch the news anymore. After the dreadful loss of the yankees(I'm indifferent in that matter), some girl gets a paintball right in the eye and it kills her. A thing not more than an inch and a half wide happens to hit her in an area no bigger than that. After watching family members weep for the whole public to see, I start remembering all the other horrible things the media likes to dish out to inform as well as entertain. Obscure warfare, small children falling victim to unfeeling bottomfeeding scum, shooting after shooting after shooting, then a cartoonish Texan ranting on about the Al-Quaeda-ish flies in his soup. Sometimes, I wonder whether or not the grotesque aspects of our existence are some sort of "cosmic gagreel" to entertain some indifferent ethereal being, or rather tribulations set before us to show us how beautiful the world can be. Perhaps, by chance, one might look around and find how wonderful things could be when observing a cabbage butterfly on a chainlink fence, that beautiful '59 vette you've always wanted in fire-engine red, or the mariachi band performing on the six train that pulls you out of a bad mood. Or, that first glance at what becomes the object of your desire, and how she, uh..I mean, that person glances back, and suddenly the backdrop is muted for just a second and you know the reason you exist at all. Within this fraction of a moment you study the most delicate contours of the face, you look beyond the soft membranes encasing the eye and study the harmony of browns and dull orange flecks that orbit the pupils. Then the backdrop returns, and you realize that it will never be. Then, the purpose gets vague, and the luster that once surrounded that little world of yours is lost. Such is the world, I guess, and it can't always be beer 'n skittles. Love is still vague to me, and I know little about the dynamics of coupling...Oy vey. But I am a human being, if I recall, so I must know something. This was in high school, and I was some stupid kid with a crush. But my views on what perfection was and is stayed the same. Regret's a bitch that doesn't let go for a long time, and it still gnaws at my ankles every now and then. Perhaps fear of loss, or worse fear of rejection are the major potholes I need to fill in to make a stable, well balanced life. Or, maybe I just need to grow up and stop wondering about the world and get down to business already. I'm steadily learning how tough life is on someone when they make the wrong choices, and that the prospect for something worth singing on the rooftops for is there but must be searched out with conviction. But right now, frustration and doubt are troublesome lil' bastards to deal with, so I find solace in that mariachi band, and I imagine the cool things I would do with that fire-engine red vette.