In life, my friends, we shall all face challenges. Whether they manifest themselves in tiny ways - you’ve run out of bog roll or you seem to perpetually have a cold - or whether they decide to become the living embodiment of damnation - extremely brittle bones, complete sensory displacement or having a loud, sex-starved neighbor - you will have to face them.
Some people try to shy away from these things, and simply label them quirks (Yeah, like having an overly comfortable pervert live next door is a quirk, fuckwit.). Others will face their challenges, and grant themselves an overly generous crown of self righteousness and purpose. Kudos on the kleenex for your nose, man.
The reason I’m bringing all of this into the light is not because I want to seem preachy and anal about the world, nor is it because I want everyone to deal with them in a particular way. I’m talking about challenges from a philosophical point of view, as only I can. Before we start our journey of challenge filled, philosophical safari, let me a do a quick mental inventory so that you can better get into my headspace, and see what I see.
- - Approx. 2 metric shittons of Millicano coffee.
- - The remnants of a halloween fueled hangover
- Very few (but rather poignant, I should add.) memories of my drunken, freezing stupors last night.
- An overdose of veggie (So that my vegetarian friend could eat them...) shrimps (The sweets.).
- An uncontrollable yearning to introduce a brick to the face of whoever starts singing ‘Gangnam Style’ next.
Righty ho, now that’s out of the way, let’s all get in the metaphorically appropriate camo ATV. Anyone that tries to get dibs (Shotgun etc...) on the front seat will only be given a goodybag filled with shame. Deal?
“Hellooo everyone,” begins the version of me acting as a tour guide. “Are we all comfy?” he- I ask, and after a few mumbled words of assent, I casually, yet professionally, scan the immediate horizon for talking points, as per the ‘Metaphorical Tour Guide Guide For Tour Guides’ (From herein know as MTGGFTG.) states is necessary. Now that I’ve got everyone’s attention, I’ll point you all towards the first sight of today’s journey (Excluding the driver’s toupé - it’s a medical condition.).
Here is an average man. He’s about 5”6, has short brown hair and dark blue eyes. He likes coffee and cake and football, and is partial to a drink now or then. For ease’s sake, we’ll call him Jon (For the record, I voted for Snazzypants Von WonderBlunder... but I didn’t get my way. SHIT HAPPENS, PEOPLE.). We’ll put him in an everyday situation, one that everyone can hopefully relate to, if only a bit.
For Jon, most days follow the same routine: Wake - Work - Rest. He has to do that simply so he can afford to do that in the first place. He enjoys what he does, but we humans are a greedy race. Jon wants more. He wants a job that pays more, but gives him more time to himself. He wants a pretty girlfriend, but doesn’t have the time to meet one. Jon’s problem is that he doesn’t have enough time out of work to search for a new job, nor does he have enough money to quit.
Here’s a question: What does Jon do?
He hits a wall.
For Jon, the limitations of his work day and his lack of financial wealth have built a stereotypical, aesthetically pleasing dusty red brick wall before him. Some of you out there will understand that feeling. Some won’t. Whether you do or not, treat what I’ll say equally. You got that, shit-for-brains (You know who you are :3)?
Jon won’t change what he’s doing to get past that wall. It’s always there, a dull orange shadow stretching from horizon to horizon, greater even than the Wall of Westeros (ASOIAF reference, fuck yeah.). He won’t try and go around it, nor will he go over it. Breaking through it would most likely kill him. Going under it? It’s built on an ancient indian burial site, so that’s a no-no.
Looks like Jon is gonna continue to live in the shadow of what he he could have.
Now that everyone is slightly depressed and fractionally sobered (Just as the MTGGFTG predicted.) let’s move on to another everyday situation. Fewer (If any of you reading this.) will have ever experienced this next situation, yet it’s just as common, if not more so.
Far away, in a country torn by war and stained by poverty, we have a man. Let’s call him Raymond. His house is little more than a shack, his job nonexistent. There is a constant threat of violence, to him or his family. Water is scarce and sought after. Most of us wouldn’t cope with that. We’d see a wall, and give up.
I have news for you, son. That ain’t no wall. It’s a motherfucking cliff.
Here’s a question: What does Raymond do?
Does he stop, and live with what he’s got, like Jon? No, he fucking doesn’t. He runs headfirst at that cliff, and takes a running jump. He’ll try to clamber up, smiling all the way, not knowing what he’ll find beyond, but anticipating it nonetheless.
Then he falls. Whether he slipped or whether he was pushed, it makes no matter. He’ll run for that cliff face again, with the same energy as before. He’ll get further, but then a bomb will hit the cliff, and shake him off as the very foundations shudder. But by god, he’ll try again.
What I’m trying to say is plain and simple: Climb the cliff. Build a door in that visually pleasing barrier. But don’t give up.
The sky is only as dark as we who stand below, the wind as wild as the life we’ve come to know.