The vultures are circling. Success breeds greed. But what success? It isn't an arrow flying in the air that lands somewhere, even if its far away. It never lands. Its not even an arrow. Doesn't just go in one direction. Maybe success is like a wheel, sometimes up and sometimes down. If you're never down then you can never be up and if you're up its only a matter of time until you're down. So why the vultures? Why not just coolness?
Why does she only say hi on her way out of the bathroom but never on the way to the bathroom? What am I doing wrong? Obviously there's something she misses that I don't. Oh, but if I did then I'd start missing it more than her. Too intense. Who was once down, or maybe out, would be on top. But its lonely there. So I'll stay right where I am. So come. As you are. As you were. As I want you to be. As a friend. Not a vulture. And smile on your way to and from, not just when I'm not looking and not just when in front of my face. Smile also when you're down. That goes for you too. I do.
You know those people who smile because they don't know any better? Fat. Boring. Lame. Small. Oh so small. Pregnant too. Don't know any better. Not interested in adventure. Not in expanding horizons, pushing beyond comfort zones or trying new things. Still where they were born. Married to the neighbor, in the neighborhood, with a big hood covering all senses. Not that I'm better. Anything but. But at least not that. Anything but that. That which I have nightmares about. Don't ask that much of me.
Good shot. Bad shot. Just shoot. Give it a shot. Then leave the gun and take the canoli.
Will the next one be a happy shot or a sad shot? Sometimes we drink to forget, ignore, express sadness. Sometimes we drink to celebrate, smile, express camaraderie. Sometimes as the group does a round of shots the emotions are mixed. For some its a sad shot, for others a happy one.
We push and pull, struggle in the night, go back and forth from happy to sad many times and back again. Bathroom breaks and all. But I can't see you every night. If we only knew all our stories, all our fears, all our passions, maybe all we'd do is happy shots. Passionately. Then we'd have a chance at being that arrow heading straight to where the sun don't ever shine.
