Archive for August, 2009

Aug 27 2009

Whatever Limits Us We Call Fate – Emerson

Published by under Blog

It’s strange. I think I only ever consider the possibility of fate and destiny and a predetermined route when things are going wrong. When I’m ‘down on my luck’, this is when I think that some higher power is fucking with me.

When things are going well, it’s all me. It’s my good decisions, wise actions and forthright, positive thinking that has brought me to this good place. But on those dark days, it’s my bad luck.

When I was younger I imagined there was a Laughing God. I think it’s the only deity I ever really believed in. The Laughing God loved nothing more than to mess with my life, to place me in awkward, difficult, horrible positions, just to watch me squirm. The Laughing God was not a good God.

So, is there fate? Is there a higher power, a puppet master yanking at our strings? I don’t think so. Wouldn’t life be a bit pointless if that were true?

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Aug 07 2009

Friday Evening

Published by under Blog

And why shouldn’t I treat myself? This is the first birthday I’ve had, since becoming a wage earner aged 16, that I haven’t bought myself a birthday present.

I do it every year. Whether it be a new phone, a snazzy but pointless gadget, a trip away. This year, I did not.

So, I’m perfectly entitled to sit in the Westbury and order an €11 glass of wine and watch the world of the wealthy wander by.

There’s a wedding on, but I’ve found a quiet corner in The Marble Bar. Near me is a table of four. The D4 Mummy is looking dishevelled, but expensively so. Her children, a boy and a girl, are quiet. I’m the first to admit that a noisy child is the single most annoying thing you can find in a bar, but these kids were too quiet. They clearly don’t want to be here. Mummy chastises one of them for not sitting up straight. The 10 year old girl promptly corrects her posture.. Daddy seems oblivious.

He is slumped in his chair, bored with the world. His phone rings and he glances at it with a mixture of fear and disgust. He doesn’t answer it. Instead, he stares at the phone, now resting on the table. He stares at it, as if contemplating the death of the phone or his own demise. “It’s either you or me, phone.”

Has he lost his fortune in the recession? Has he just been laid off? Did his stallion not make it to the Horse Show? Or is he just bored with his lot? His irritating wife, his ‘perfect’ children, the SUV and the private members club, the big house and the boring friends.

Mummy informs the family that they are leaving. The girl and boy jump to their feet with military precision. Daddy drags himself out of the chair slowly. He contemplates his phone again, before pocketing it. Shoulders hunched, he dutifully follows his wife and kids out the door and back to a life he clearly does not want.

I sip my wine. It tastes good and I smile.

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Aug 07 2009

Life Is The Name Of The Game

Published by under A Year in my Life,Blog

As I turn 28, I still act like a child. As I turn 28, I still enjoy silly games and childish pranks. As I turn 28, I still watch cartoons, laugh at juvenile comedies and look forward to watching the latest mindless Summer blockbuster.

At As I turn 28, I drink with my friends and go out regularly. As I turn 28, I don’t feel tied down or restrcited. As I turn 28, I still believe the world is my oyster and I can do or be anything.

But as I turn 28, I am proud of my responsible side. As I turn 28, I look around at my beautiful longterm girlfriend, my wonderful home, my good job and my meowing cat. As I turn 28, I have a mortgage, loans, credit cards and a savings account and I’m proud of what I have achieved.

I realise life is art, but always a work in progress. As I turn 28, I’m happy to say – I like how mine is looking so far.

 

A friend of mine from my school days is getting married soon. I received the invitation last week and I was surprised by how overcome with emotion I was. I’m so happy for him. I look back at lunchtimes in 5th year, when we would sit out on the grass verge talking about music or the leaving cert or whatever teacher was irritating us that day. 10 years later, we have full lives and responsibilities. It’s mind blowing. It’s brilliant.


One response so far