“In the city of the future, it is difficult to concentrate.” – Palo Alto, Radiohead
Looking forward, my current life problems consists of matching frame styles and colors to art works. It’s rough, I know, and in actuality it is the panacea to my real life problems like work, employment, and my job. Everything seems to feel clear sailing on the waters, but that nasty crag jutting out of the sea of life is like a syphilitic, bitch siren… damning all for attention.
I just wasted a year of my life doing everything except what I really desired to. (Waste may be an unnecessarily strong word as the affects of the past certainly help steer the future.) I entertained many ideas within that year, many options, foresaw many angles to solutions to what I thought my problems were… solutions now moot since I realized the problem was the problem and it was insular to itself.
Set your ship away from the island and suddenly you don’t need to worry where the sand is.
“Meet the boss, meet the wife, everybody’s happy, everyone is made for life.”
Did you ever fight over a toy with a sibling or peer when you were a kid? It really served no purpose, did it? An argument over control, not the object. There was a solution for that situation as well. Authority figures likely took it away from both of you. The wiser kid gave it up and moved on, played with something else. “It was an object,” after all, you said, who really needs it?
Objectifying our experiences can be dangerous. It’s like a drug addict charged with recreating the same high over and over again. One begins to fight to achieve the same power within them and slowly the fight departs their personal circle and pollutes the emanating community.
Poisonous relationships die hard. Quick slices still sting, but in my experience and observations, like gripping onto that toy, we seem to be compelled to hold on until given reason not to. Because something might change.
When you’re wading in a pool of leeches, it’s foolish to think blood will not be shed.