We Don't Go to Ravenholm

“Sex is interesting, but it's not totally important. I mean it's not even as important (physically) as excretion. A man can go seventy years without a piece of ass, but he can die in a week without a bowel movement.” -Charles Bukowski

I don't readily accept advice from my parents, teachers, or anyone with any personal ties to me. I tend to draw advice strictly from alcoholics, bums, and other morally dubious people - in other words, authors. They seem somehow less jaded - more pure-hearted. Following this reasoning, it's hard to put any story to this little snippet of advice, other than this: I read it [and in no particularly meaningful context]. Anyhow, the profundity of this seemingly obtuse statement is easily overlooked. Sex, in this case, is a metaphor for the luxuries of life - the things we can live without, but would [much] rather not. Excretion symbolizes the essentials of life - food, shelter, and clothing. Living in a paradise of iPods, Gucci sunglasses, Prada shoes, microwave ovens [don't watch the food cook], solid gold Kama Sutra coffee pots, Starbucks triple lattés and laptops that come in the 'flavors' of every imaginable fruit, it's easy to take for granted what we have always thought of as the basics that every human starts out with. We, metaphorically speaking, start off in the Eastern Plaguelands while other countries have to start off in Northshire Valley. We have everything we need to sustain happy, auspicious lives, but we don't see that until we're already caught in that web of luxuries from which there is no escape. We envy what others have, and end up no happier in the ensuing pursuit of these indulgences.

Such is how the storybook of my life begins...

It all began when I was 3 years old. I was extremely intelligent and perceptive for my age. At least, I think I was. Upon the 214th day of my 3rd year of existence, I spotted the most delectable pair of Spiderman shoes upon which my eyes had ever had the delight of gazing. Whenever these undeserving pair of small feet managed to take a step [more of a stumble, to be more precise], the red LEDs injected into the soles would light up, sparking the same reaction on my heavenly face. I was in a state of celestial bliss. I had to have them. And the next day, following roughly 3 hours of begging, pleading, and human sacrifice, I did. That day, the 946th day of my life, my whole world turned upside down.

In the last 5,246 days of my life, I have not yet managed to find my way back to that blessèd path of childish ignorance. I'm forever stuck on the road of avarice and unhealthy greed. Knowing what's out there, I now lust for the things I will never have. Such is why happiness is no longer plausible. I'm up to my ears in excrement, but the only thing which holds any meaning in my life is the sex I can't have.

Learning to appreciate what we have is a skill very few possess. The lucky ones have it, but me - I'll die before I ever learn it.

Life is a big pile of fecal matter. Learn to appreciate it before you're caught in the vortex of greed that can only suck you in further as your life plays out.