It’s 1:32 AM on December 21, 2019 in Nashville, Tennessee, USA. It is a week before the new decade, I’m eight drinks deep, and I am going to do what I always do best when inebriated at a time I shouldn’t be. Definitely not for the first time and hopefully not for the last time.
So here goes:
What is life? And what is a life that’s meant to be lived like how we always dreamt it would be lived?
Shit, well I how would I know? Half the time I don’t know a damn about anything! And to be honest, who will ever know? Truly. But if I may… maybe life is like this.
Maybe life is a collection of selected memories, the memories that made us really think and murmur to ourselves, “well that wasn’t what I expected.” Maybe life is supposed to be smooth sailing, and the winds are calm and the rudder is set, and we know where we’re going all the time and all is well; and all is well that ends well right?
And damn wouldn’t that just be awesome? But maybe even, and I do hope this is the case, that life is as the seasons. And the wind blows and the icy cold snow falls and the calm before that damn storm comes and we are caught in the middle, and we murmur to ourselves:
“well damn, I didn’t prepare for this but I’ve been through all this before.”
And shit that’s life right? And damn what a storm to be caught in! And isn’t it beautiful?
So what does it all mean you ask? Well here it is. Smooth sailing isn’t for us, because smooth sailing isn’t for us. And the wild, crazy, up and down, who-knows-where-life-takes-us-and-we-don’t-care reality we all aspire to call this crazy thing we call life overtake us in all its craziness.
And yet, we let this feeling embrace us. And no matter what.
We murmur to ourselves once more…
THE WORKMAN 