Thursday, December 2, 2010

Untitled: By Zero

In the beginning, there were particles of dust floating aimlessly around space. In the end, guess what? Same shit. Dust floating aimlessly around space. Our entire existence; every person who has ever lived, every TV show, every volcano, every book ever written, every megabyte of information ever transferred through the world wide web, everything that has ever happened to you personally or any of your ancestors... it's all one big humongous fucking dust sandwich.

The question is this: what is the importance of part of a dust sandwich knowing that it is a part of a dust sandwich? Does it matter if the individual sand particle blowing in the wind actually knows that it is a part of the tornado that destroys the trailer park? Does it change anything?
The answer is no. No, it doesn't. That is the punchline. Our entire lives we chase ghosts to find some kind of a meaning behind it all. Discover why we are here. It is all a lie. What we are looking for isn't there. What we are meant to find, however, is right in front of us everyday.

Every now and then, my dog comes to play with me. He is a little over a year old, still a puppy, and tends to want to expend as much energy as he can throughout the day. The problem is that most times I'm either tired from working or trying to write something. I'm not proud to say that I turn him away at least a quarter of the time.

That is me missing out on life. I'll only have him around for the next 15 years or so. When he is gone, I will have wished that I could still play with him. I will regret every single time that I passed up playing with him for something 'more important'. I have vowed that from now on, everytime he wants to play no matter what I'm doing I will pick up whatever toy he has in his mouth and toss it around with him for at least half an hour.
Most of us live for the future when we should be living in the moment. Right now is the only thing that is really important. This is our life and it is passing us by, right in front of our face, and all we can do is bitch about it not being exactly as we wished for as children. We retrospect our lives before they are even finished.

Don't take this piece wrong; it is not some speech that a jackass motivational speaker would give you on tape for three easy payments of $39.95. I could give a fuck less if you want to take a message from these words or not. I'm doing this for selfish reasons, which is how all authors should write. For themselves, and if someone else takes something from it or has a realization of their own, then so be it.

If you did happen to learn something here, kudos. It just goes to show that we all have things in common. When writers spend hours and hours researching and talking to folks and trying to find the right words, they are wasting time. The research is your life. The people you need to talk to have already spoken. And the right words can only be found inside.


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