Continuing with the theme of the decade, it is simple to get caught up in pure chocolate covered nostalgic goat turds wrapped in sparrow tears that passes for memory. Perhaps all those friends were just bastards we hated at the time.
Again, is this wish to connect with a better friend-filled time but bitter berries spat out and staining our nice polo attire? We eat well. Many of us no longer drink well liqueur even as a joke but sip Top Shelf(tm).
Some of us are not obsessed with sales. Our lives are set perhaps on edge but we have in our hands more control and ability to direct our own night than when we were children and begged father to take us to the Nintendo shope or as youth in college (or of that age and not attending) listlessly listed all the things we would or could do had we the extra smash in the jar but as deenuts are, we had to be content watching Pretty In Pink for the umpteenth time or dancing along to out Most Awsum Mix Tape. In a few words, we are trapped as my Great Uncle Butch exclaimed, whenever I have the time I don’t have the money and whenever I have the money I don’t have the time.
He’s quite dead now. So he has neither.
I have made it my summer mission to reconnect with all those I’ve lost along the way. Maybe even make new friends too. While we work it seems to work, life’s little struggles are indeed to remain connected. I read somewhere on the Uncle Internets that part of the intended outcome of work is to take up as much time as possible so that we may be fully alienated from an organic support network (what we used to call community and family but dem some fancy words, no?). It was an interesting thought however much I disbelieve conspiracy theories done I’ve seem supposed private companies of The Best and The Brightest not able to take a shit in a warm pool let alone keep something complex secret. However, while it may not be some plan led by a Freemason/Jew/your hated group here cabal, the outcome is very much just that – we have no time, we have no social needs met, we have so many desires unmet – and I don’t mean erotic – just simple childish desires. Wasn’t it Dr Penis who said an unmet desire becomes and obsession – like buying a $40 top you don’t need but makes you feel good, at least for a moment.
I met my friend in SOHO and since she is a private person, I now see that I cannot use our chance encounter for fodder for the blog or even a status update on the Boom of Face. Here we were, two old acquaintances sitting on the classic loading-dock-cum-boutique in the shade of a hot summer day and she and I discuss the theater, art, travel, and the tales of a grandfather. Let this conversation linger on and in time be forgotten. Let the connection exist in whatever moment we are given.
When we parted neither of us said we’d be in touch. We know how the world works these days.
Editor’s note – don’t ever blog from an iPhone