Do You Feel Lucky?

(and feel free to comment! My older posts are certainly no less relevant to the burning concerns of the day.)

Wednesday, August 01, 2012

Once Again, My Life Story Pretty Much

I was born on the bad side of life, already knowing what was in store but never believing it for a moment. Home was a word I was never taught. I went though school feeling as if my mouth was constantly sucking, sucking on a fruit pit that had long since lost its juice. My mom, my dad, my brothers and sisters - none of them could tell me anything that would make a difference. It was as if an occult hand had dipped its sharp quill into ink of the most impenetrable blackness, and marked out a strange fate for me in cryptic sigils. I left home every day, never to return. In the evening, I was back again. Everyone I asked had an explanation for me that made absolutely no sense.

Finally, I turned to drug addiction, sexual perversion, mental illness, criminal negligence and personality disorder. None of these seemed to help. The end of my rope was fraying. I was endlessly worrying away at it with my toes. It was like a compulsion of some kind, but as much as the friction of the process soothed my misfiring neurons, I couldn't stand the result. That rope was coming apart into separate strands. I'd never be able to hang in there properly if all I was grasping was a bundle of strings and not a stout rope! I've always taken a metaphor too far. Anyway, I thought maybe if I slid down a little further I could hang on by my hands while I moistened the ends with my saliva, and maybe that would get it to stick together better.

Fool move. You guessed it.

My hands slipped.

It was then that I remembered the rope was only a metaphor in the first place. Still, a realization like that in the situation I was in gave utterly no material aid.

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