Aug 09, 2023, 05:55AM

Tiny Tragedies

People come and go, like the weather. 

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It’s the little trifles that eat away at your spirit every second of every day. Those petty problems that lead to bitterness, anger, and revenge in your soul. Murky predictions forecast evil misfortunes, though vague ones that may be completely understandable. People come and go, like the weather. Even the landscape looks different—not exactly the realm of “Have a nice day, peace out, goodwill hunters.” That group of interlopers and manipulative trolls. The “have a blessed day” naysayers have issues with their religious beliefs. Escaping from reality has its privileges. It depends on the circumstances, the situation, and mysterious, unknown environmental conditions. Too many factors figure into corrupt scenarios, including how to opt out of this process. Ideal tableaux for disaster. The kind of things that make good fodder for disaster stories.

Either you’re the solution or the concern; there’s no gray area, no middle ground. Those trivialities that muck up the work are black and white. Nobody ever sees what’s coming. There were no explanations for the expectations. The evil signs of wicked evil wonderment in everyday people gone bad. It’s in their DNA. The insidious specter of murder and mayhem. Extortion and bribery are the virtues of the day. All routes led to doom and despair. The destruction of the human spirit. A critical condition the body can’t fathom. Some are just half-good enough; others are plain bad outlaws. Renegades against everything that normality stands for.

The norm is anything that fits the pretty picture. It ain’t all waiting on you. Your vanity is only exceeded by your conceit for all that’s pure. Flip a coin. Heads or tails. It’s of no consequence. Your untimely demise can’t be explained. Only that it’s in some obscure, unforeseen, distant future of unreality. Yet, when it arrives, it does so on quiet cat paws. That final gasp of stale air. The dead end of a dire situation. The end of the road will arrive soon enough. Simpering simpletons are slouching toward Metropolis. Roars and whimpers. Laughter’s tears. You win some and lose it all. It doesn’t matter. It’s all cut from the same cheap glad rags.

It’s how well you play the game that adds up. Nothing to do with accumulated wealth. Losers have nothing to show for their losses. If there’s a lesson to be learned here, I can’t tell anyone what it is. Nothing’s wrong with the right answers. Live for today, because tomorrow never ends. If you cheat, you lose. If you play by the rules, you lose. The numbers never change.  Still lose. They add up to a staggering number of numbers. Money, love, and death are all equal in blind eyes. What you seek may destroy your soul. That’s the final arrow in the quiver. From your mouth to God's ear to the devil's ass. That toothy, lipstick-smeared smirk and curled lip are dead giveaways. That’s how they did it in the old days.

Getting to watch all your favorite TV shows and to die happy and free. That’s the way to go, with a smile on your face, a hearty handshake, and some handsome reward promised in tandem with peace on earth and some make-believe heaven. Your run-on sentence explains little in terms of what’s to come. It’s an orgy of the naked and the dead, dancing the tarantella on Saint Vitus Day. It’s too late for regrets. It took too long for half-baked recipes you’ll never get again. How it ends is entirely up to you. No return, no refund. Thank you. Have a nice fucking day, fella. There are no such animals as self-serving beings in the checkout line of life.

Pay for the privilege to ring up and bag your groceries with a bag you bring to the store, and don’t forget to return your cart to the lot cart station. Located on the other side of the parking lot. So much for customer service. Too much for one soul to handle. Let it go. Free yourself from the pain. Tomorrow is another day, just like the one that just happened.  


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