I fear I haven’t been living life to the fullest recently. Too many days have passed unseized. So I’ve decided to rectify that situation and, with the aid of a new credit card which gives me near limitless spending capacity of money I don’t have… buy the world. Started yesterday with chicken, pasta, a rose wine and a cucumber, but tomorrow I might just buy the grocery store. And they say that money can’t buy you happiness. That the best things in life are free. That money is the root of all that kills. Or maybe that one was just Everclear’s feeble attempt at poetry hidden within the verse of a high school anthem. Art Alexakis might well have been the worst lyricist ever, and calling it poetry was beyond a stretch of the term. I mean, after Santa Monica it was just a downhill slide. What? What the hell are you talking about Davey? It’s a left at the next street, then second crossroads hang a right, and, wait, oh for fuck's sake. Just take me back to the start.
The topic was carpe diem’s and all their accessories. So what does my buying groceries have to do with seizing the day? Absolutely nothing, but dinner was wonderful last night. And as the sun disappeared over the horizon it lit up the cloud line; a last defiant blood red dripping across the sky. I was suitably awestruck and pretended that I couldn’t see the construction cranes over the treetops, or the row houses running along the field, and pictured myself watching the end of the world from a fencepost in the middle of nowhere. And we toasted each other, me and the sky, and drank our wine in a companionable silence.
And it’s possible, just barely possible, that it went straight to my head.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment