Wednesday, May 16, 2012

The Noble Fight

Coffee woooheee, I want it all for me. I like to think of myself as a flame-throwing revolutionary, but I think the only realistic occurrence that would make me hit the streets and march is a prohibition on coffee. No measure would be too great. I'd go into hand to hand combat with a Colombian Cartel Lord to secure a can of the dark devil. But hey, I come from a long line of Polygamist Mormons, so for me, every caffeinated sip is like an unshackling of my once morbidly obedient soul.

The things in life that matter are the things you fight for. Whether the fight be against a person, a government, or your own long programmed, rigid morality, is entirely up to you and your individual preferences. For some people, Crack use is galaxies away, for others, it is as easy as crossing the hall. And knocking on the door of their neighborhood crack dealer. The one who lingers at the single entrance of the apartment building, in his urine stained sweat pants, hissing out of his two cracked teeth, "Hey there you little piece of chicken, you little piece of dog sh*t, wanna buy some crack b$tch?"

For those people, not doing crack is enough of a fight to survive. Believe it or not, it takes a lot of soulful energy to maneuver you way out of the path of a crack dealer, and even more to say no to the dealer when he inevitably pops up in your shower hissing, "Hey b*tch! I thought I said, Do you wanna buy some crack?"

So why we judge people based upon their status in life is a total mystery to me. Every person is fighting for their life in one way or another. If your life is so privileged that "fighting for your life" means arguing with the valet guy for changing the Sirus radio station in your 2012 Land Rover, then well, you aren't fighting for your life, you are fighting for your soul. In many ways, you are worse off than that crack dealer, because the price tag on your urine stained pants resulting from your Oxycontin addiction, reads THE EARNINGS OF THE AVERAGE FAMILY OF SIX IN NORTH KOREA FOR A YEAR.

But in the end, those are just numbers and you too, deserve sympathy. Sympathy for mustering up the courage to try and make sense out of the chaos of modern life. And I say you deserve even more sympathy if you go even farther, and try and derive beauty and meaning out of all of it, out of any of it.
Noble are the souls who look for the rainbow between their neighbor's two cracked teeth.

1 comment:

  1. I love!
    Hilariously funny yet you cant miss the dose of deep truth it forces down your throat.
    Great piece!