Tuesday, December 16, 2003 :::
A Man Among Flavors.
Desire is the devil’s favorite fishhook. Having is not the same thing as wanting, and wanting only tastes sweet until you hold in your hands that thing you want. Are theses the things I am supposed to believe?
I recently came to the conclusion that I am the guy in the 31 Flavors liking what I see but really wanting the 32nd flavor… that one would hit the sweet spot. It is 32, that wonderfully unattainable thirty-second flavor, that would intersect at the exact point of what I want and what I am able to acquire.
But, what if the tasting spoon comes out? What if the clerk at the eternal ice cream counter sees my slight dissatisfaction with the current selection and decides to take a chance on me and introduce me to the one he’s been holding back? What if from the rear freezer he pulls out a slick-white pint container then, as he is digging that pink little spoon into Number 32, he winks as if to say “Have I got something for you”! At the exact moment that tiny dollop of sweet milk hits my tongue might I decide that, while 32 was worth the wait and was better than the 31 that preceded it, perhaps 33 would be more to my liking.
Ice cream shall always be a clumsy metaphor for life and all its choices.
::: posted by Mike at 6:51 AM
Wednesday, December 10, 2003 :::
I'm The Builder, Not The Guy Who Drew The Pictures.
I know, it has been awhile since my last post to Nosebleed. I have gotten many e-mails and IMs telling me I need to get back on the stick and spew and spill my trademarked brand of nonsense. But, I have been busy.
You see, in case you haven't heard, life sucks. Not in a global "Everything Is Shit" where you slap a bumper sticker on your car that says "I'd Rather Be Dead". I am talking more about the reality of life, the details that I didn't read in my adulthood contract.
The whine: I never have enough time. Ever. I am up at 4:40am in the morning and I go to sleep at 11:00pm at night. No time. I am a multi-task... no more time created. I prioritize... still no time. The friends barely call anymore. The sisters know better to try. The wife has given up on me and is more than likely waiting until the holidays are over to serve me with process. The boss wants more. The business demands dollars. The marketers want tasks accomplished that will give meaning to their lives and professions. The dog doesn't feel loved. My Grandmother is dead. My final exams are too hard and too plentiful. Any of this sound familiar... this normal life filler, this bullshit of modern existence?
You see, I don't want to be torn. I don't want to be divided. I don't want to be a failure, or lonely, or speechless, or divorced. Buy I cannot seem to step off the road that leads to all those things.
I told a friend the other day that I am not becoming what I used to want to be. Instead, I am becoming what I am. I am becoming that precise thing I thought I was too good to be. I know, none of this makes sense. It is not supposed to, it is raw, unprocessed thought. An embarrassing snapshot of Mike while he was away. In my last post I had finished my book... in this post I am close to being finished being this version of me.
This friend of mine is an architect. Not in the literal, blueprints for the building sort of way. I mean an architect of ideas. Ideas that are threatening, and dangerous, and beautiful. I'm jealous I am not an architect. I lack the vision to create in my life... I can only build. I can only put the jagged metal trusses in position; put the glass in its properly designated place. I am no architect. I do not communicate the virtue, I only mortar the brick. I only place the drywall. I am the builder.
Come back next time… maybe I will have something nice to say.
::: posted by Mike at 1:19 PM
