They’ve got cars big as bars they’ve got rivers of gold.
December 25, 2012 § Leave a comment
“Were it not for the presence of the unwashed and the half-educated, the formless, queer and incomplete, the unreasonable and absurd, the infinite shapes of the delightful human tadpole, the horizon would not wear so wide a grin.” Frank Moore Colby quotes (American writer 1865 – 1925)
It’s Christmas. It’s Christmas and I’m still alive. My hearts still pumping and my blood is still ruining in my veins. But for the grace of my father and someone else’s god. When the chips were down I hedged my bets. I kept my money sensible and worked myself back to where I wanted to be. But when I needed him he was there for me. He was the embodiment of the salvation that I had been so desperately seeking. The dirty little secret of life is that there is no quick fix. It’s not easy. It’s not. It never was. No one said it was. All of that.
I lost what had been keeping me on the edge only to find why I hadn’t left. What goes up, must come down. Down. Down. But that which is lost is not always found. Even if being found is what some of the lost seek. Or some shit. It’s hard to get hung up on the numbers. It’s hard to sit down and study the figures of the salvation of those so erratic. The very fact that they should register at all as a number undermines the whole approach.
I watch the thick warm air pour out of my mouth on the cold Christmas morning. Christmas is more in the country. The wide open spaces close is in. Make it feel more like home.
One day you will die. There’s nothing you can do about that. You can eat pasta and drink water instead of doing what your doing, but yes, I’m afraid to break it to you but one day you will die. A lot of people see this as a great point of fear. “I don’t like to think about that.” They say, they pass up the opportunity to talk about it in favour of something else. But I have found hope in that. Hope in the fact that one day, all of these worries, the fear, the anxiety, the sleepless nights, all gone. Faded into obscurity. Gone into the dark. Passed through what’s left like a dream through a young man’s head, like a dream through a young man’s fingers. And I’m not saying, I’m not saying that I want that day today. I’m not saying that is what I desire in the near future. I’m saying, relax. It’s OK. One day all of this will be irrelevant, and there’s beauty in that. Don’t you think?
I see skies of blue, red roses too, I see them bloom for me and you, and I think to myself, what a wonderful world.
Merry Christmas, and may your God bless us, every one.
No Longer an Astronaut.