:: Electric Psychedelic Pussycat Swinger's Club ::

:: Thursday, August 18, 2005 ::

I'll tell you what life isn't about.

Life isn't about mind-blowingly stupid t-shirts with "Hotty" or "Princess" stretched across your chest. $9.95 will by you cheap cotton, but wit retails at a higher price. Why anyone would ever want to reduce themselves down to a 1-dimensional being in the first place, especially adjectives such as those above, is beyond comprehension.

Life isn't about trying to appease your father. He will always love the game of golf far more than you ever possibly could. Playing alongside him just to spend some time together is not worth the frustration. Lord knows I've tried the past 23 years, but the incessant coaching and critiquing drains every last ounce of fun from it. And it's dawned on me that he will never understand why I go in the first place: to make up for lost times. He was never around until it was too late; until we had grown up and left the house. Now it's disheartening to watch him desperately attempt to do what we so longed for as children. My relationship with my father, well... Harry Chapin comes to mind.

Life can't be solely about the mantra, "if you work hard, good things will happen". How does this explain lazy lottery winners or trust fund dickheads running around Manhattan spending daddy's money on $2000 apartments and $300 jeans? And what about those few people who do actually work hard their whole lives (your gardeners, your corner grocer, your parents), scraping by a meger existence for their entire adult lives, only to discover a lump in a breast that will punctuate your life with an abrupt period? Or the random acts of violence that take place every day around the world, with suicide bombers strapping sticks of dynamite to their pre-pubescent chests and walking into public markets and punctuating the lives of mothers and fathers, along with their sons and their daughters? Do you think making lots of money and carving out a respectable career is really all that important along the Gaza strip?

Life's about failed relationships and ex-girlfriends. Life's about ex-wives and crumbled family units. Life is about working towards a dream you're too disillusioned to realize has forgotten about you. Life is about grinding our asses away 11 months out of the year just to get 2 weeks of actual living in. Life's about finding that special someone and then slowly killing the very spirit that attracted you to her in the first place. And it besieges you knowing there's nothing you can do about it. It's about watching your parents age before your very eyes and knowing they're not going to be around much longer. It's about sisters you never really knew. Life is about waking up to the terrifying realization that you just might not care. And that's the scariest part of all. Because after that, there's nothing left.

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