Wednesday, March 17, 2010

How are you?

Every time you see me you ask me how I am. Countless times we're asked this question, so often that the answer becomes automatic. Like bullets a "Good" or "Fine" is shot right back at the questioner. Never do we really stop to think about the true answer. And even if I knew most of the time I wouldn't tell you.

Well right now I do know.

Right now it's like when you go to your favourite playground from when you were a kid. And find that the swing sets that you spent so much of your life on are gone, replaced by a jungle gym. The slide that needed so much courage to climb is now a teeter-totter. And the baseball field where you had those late night pickup games is nothing but grass. It's still a playground. Kids still spend hours in breathless joy. But it doesn't feel the same. It doesn't fit your memory. You're not sure why this happened and you're not sure why you care. And the more you think about it the less you get to any conclusion. It turns into just one more thing pressing down upon your sun. The caffeine and the pills and the 12 hours of sleep stops working and you transition from the lost playground to the stranger that didn't return your hello when you passed by on the street. The friend who didn't return your call. The person you loved a year ago who lay down next to you, drawing up the future in thousands of useless words detailing every moment and bright idea both of you drowning in useless Idealism on that damn water bed where you could never sit still and this fucking bracelet which you want to burn but you can't seem to cut it off your wrist and it really doesn't matter anyway its just string yet for some reason your mind just can't stop this damn cycle and you just need to RELAX.

well... maybe it's better that we leave it to a simple "Good" or "Fine" and a smile created to disguise what's inside.

Whats Wrong with a Little Destruction?

All alone in this tiny shop of glass. I sit and gaze at the art around me. Everything reminding me of my not so simple past. Teacups and vases line the walls, with mirrors and china surrounding them all. Fragile lives teeter on definite edges. Sitting their life away with nothing to do but sparkle. Shine in motionless silence. Not even the air, in its multitude of moves, disturbs the quiet shop of glass. All is whole.

Life does not work this way. Nothing can sit in a suspended state. Nothing is perfect. Nothing can shine forever. It's not sane. It's simply an illusion of the world. It's misery.

All it takes is one breath. One wink. One hit. One push. One idea. One butterfly. Destruction. Devastation. Disruption. With one solid swing you can smash a shelf. Glass litters the floor. Another, and a teacup shatters. This shop collapses with a hundredth of the effort it took to build. Reflecting life, reflecting our world, the shop is destroyed. And it feels good.

So much is lost, all the work, patience, creativity. Nothing is left but chaos and confusion. Nothing makes sense. But it's only after we have lost everything that we are free to do anything. Through the dust a new world can be built. A better world. Destroy the nostalgic ties to your life and you will be free. Only after disaster can we be resurrected. Only after we erase here and now can we create our future.

Destroy your china shop and create your future from the dust. Only then will you be free.