I see life, I see death, what do I pick?
I love reading about life. It’s a huge puzzle. Why are we here, is there a purpose, is it truly Adam and Eve? Or did I come from Amoeba. I don’t like to get into the arguments cause there are no certainties. Also, 2 things can be true.
When I was in 21, I read this article. The guy explained how two people can go to a club and have two different experiences. One goes and he is in one corner of the club, it’s crowded and a fights breaks out, he has a awful experience. The other is in a different corner and he balls all night, it’s a turnt night. Same club, two different stories. His point was that your experience shapes the reality.
Living life has been a similar experience for me. Except that unlike the guys in the club, I experienced the fight and I also had the turnt night. So when people recount life stories to me from the fight perspective I know what they mean and when they talk about it from the latter, I also understand.
However at every point I have to choose my general disposition to life. Is it the most horrible place to be or the best. Do I hate it or like it. Do I feel the insecurities and complain bitterly, do I feel the moments of bliss and rejoice.
I asked my wife as I typically do when I find myself in places like this. To paraphrase her response, ‘nowhere is safe, there is no happiness anywhere. It’s all the same everywhere. The fear you feel, worrying about a possible bomb going off in your home in Iraq is the same fear you have that the police might pull you over and shoot you’. I do agree with her on that.
I resumed drinking my Absolute Vodka and decided for myself that, since I was already at the club, with a lot of other people. I can’t decide what they will do. I also can’t keep looking over my shoulder paranoid about whether they will fight or not, in the end, I can only decide what I want my night to look like. Whether to run from corner to corner worrying about a fight breaking out, or listening to the Dj drop club bangers upon bangers with a cup of Hennessy screaming at the top of my lungs and hope that if a fight breaks out, I survive with my head intact. And maybe I won’t even see a fight. And if I do and don’t survive, please drink to me. I died pumped with alcohol and adrenaline. I don’t want to but it is not really up to me.
This works for me, this is my reality. Find what works for you too. ❤️❤️
