It's Just a Ride

You know I'm often asked why I'm so apathetic towards my own life. "Why don't you have a bigger reaction?" "I'm sorry, is this not bothering you?" "How could you just let that go?"

And I want to be cool and say I'm laconic because I'm above it all. Not true. Because hey, not having things go the way you picture them in your head, no matter how limited and skewed that picture is, makes anybody smart. I'm no different. To a point. After that point has been reached - it generally takes lots of swallowing to keep the bile down, mental cursing and a quick call to my friend Parge - it passes and then I'm above it. And cool. And laconic.

Because you see, in the bigger scheme of things, it doesn't matter. Because time is more potent than any of this. And over the days, it stretches every memory, every experience like a rubber band till one day that band is so taut, it gives and it's over. When you wake up one morning and realise you've forgotten your ex's phone number. That's time. When you realise 'your song' has gone back to being 'a song'. That's time. When you realise you don't feel bitter the person is happy and you don't feel pleased if the person is sad. That's time right there. And it works like that for everything - divorce, death, getting fired, getting rejected, getting fat - without exception. Isn't that a wonderful constant to have?

So when you have made your peace with the fact that everything, good and bad, passes eventually, you figure why not start being okay sooner? Time's got enough work on hand with all those emotionally-constipated people who just. won't. let. it go.

That said, I know people who read 'Laconic' as 'Pushover'. These people are, and I quote someone I can't remember here, 'mediocre at best and suffused with feelings of entitlement.' This lot is a complete waste of time and space, sullying the gene pool one hyper-sensitive, neurotic second at a time and should be lined up and shot at close range with a BB gun so it hurts like a bitch and they don't even get to die afterwards. Them and those fucking Zoozoos.

And since it turned out to be the weekend of Bill Hicks, I'll let him end this post for me.

"The world is like a ride at an amusement park. It goes up and down and round and round. It has thrills and chills and it’s very brightly coloured and it’s very loud and it’s fun, for a while.

Some people have been on the ride for a long time and they begin to question, is this real, or is this just a ride? And other people have remembered, and they come back to us, they say, “Hey - don’t worry, don’t be afraid, ever, because, this is just a ride…” And we… kill those people. Ha ha “Shut him up.” “We have a lot invested in this ride. Shut him up. Look at my furrows of worry. Look at my big bank account and my family. This just has to be real.” It’s just a ride. But we always kill those good guys who try and tell us that, you ever notice that? And let the demons run amok.

But it doesn’t matter because: It’s just a ride. And we can change it anytime we want. It’s only a choice. No effort, no work, no job, no savings and money. A choice, right now, between fear and love. The eyes of fear want you to put bigger locks on your doors, buy guns, close yourself off. The eyes of love, instead, see all of us as one. Here’s what we can do to change the world, right now, to a better ride. Take all that money that we spend on weapons and defences each year and instead spend it feeding and clothing and educating the poor of the world, which it would many times over, not one human being excluded, and we could explore space, together, both inner and outer, forever, in peace. Thank you very much, you’ve been great.”