Thursday, October 27, 2005

What A Wunnerful World

Hey kid, it’s a cruel world. I’m sure I’m not the first the first to be saying this, nor will I be the last. I don’t intend to sound omniscient, or wise (for mind, they’re not synonymous). I’m not planning to seem like I have been through all the crap this planet could ever put me through, but I’m learning. I’m getting there, though I’m not even a quarter through.
So will you.
It’s not a happy place. People will step on your face for no reason other than they should. Ever heard of that story about that caterpillar who wanted to reach the top of those pillars of caterpillars? He endured all the feet on his face, that mindless racing to the top---all quite impersonal--- to find out that at the top there is nothing at all special, just a bunch of caterpillars trying to hold on to that place simply because everyone wants to get there.
It goes true, even now. Were all trying to get what everybody else wants--- fame, fortune, control. We race. We stab backs. We step on faces if we get the chance. Aw c’mon, don’t tell me you’ve never dunnit. As I was saying, it’s a cruel world. We bite to get what we want.
And hold on, even in the midst of finding out that it’s just not worth it all.
So now we’ve covered ambition. We move on to that curse--- love.
Unfortunately, no one is safe from it. It’s not like a Kedavra curse you can dodge, and it can’t go haywire like a jinx. Some time or other it will hone on you and then you know hell. (I myself have been cursed, and it did not go well. I have been cursed again…and I am in purgatory).
Consequently, someone made a poem about a shepherd to his love. The shepherd fairly promised the world and immortality to his wench (which is silly for he is just a poor, lovesick wretch), if only she would marry him. Such beautiful lines. But yes, silly, if one is to even think of reality. Sir Walter Scott Raleigh, I think, composed the reply of the wench to the shepherd. She said that if everything were to remain as they are forever, if flowers never fade and love the same, then she would go with him. Else, she won’t.
Oh, how smart of her. If only everyone’s brainwaves (including mine) went the same, then the world would be a ton less of fools. Or more.

But everything is not as gloomy as I make it out to be. Good, honest people still walk the streets. Flowers still grow, in their vibrant colors of yore. There are still uplifting sunrises in blinding yellow and magnificent sunsets from purple to orange to red. Love still reigns, for as long as a few can truly love, it can conquer.
It’s a cruel place.
But in a paradoxical twist of fate, it’s also a wunnerful world.


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