I’m gonna be honest with you…I’ve spent my whole life trying to figure life out. I was born into a really shitty situation. I say that carefully because I realize that many more people have been born into far shittier situations. But after all, situational judgments are all relative so I’ll leave it there. I am getting on a plane for the first time since I was young and stupid and not scared to die. That undertaking comes with an altered viewpoint-the viewpoint from which I now write.
We are born into this world alone and scared and in pain. I have met enough people in this world both rich and poor to know that everyone feels pain. I grew up in a one bedroom apartment with a crazy mom. We had nothing. I had no dad. Perhaps because of my circumstances I had no choice but to fall in love with material possessions. The big problem was there was no money to get any material possessions. When I turned 6 I got a bike, it was my first drug. It was my gateway into the material world, and it brought 2 very strong forces together--happiness and pain, balanced and unbalanced, upright and down, Wrong and right, good and bad, God and the Devil, I could go on but you get the picture.
I was amazed at how quickly a euphoric bliss could turn into a gut wrenching downer. The act of balancing on a bike and gliding along free with not a care in the world, the endorphins flushing through my bloodstream and then boom, everything happening in slow motion, equilibrium upset. I was flying through the air: my world had turned upside down, and then pain, sharp stinging throbbing, then dull and bleeding. Headache, the former glory of bliss gone, replaced with ache and pain. First time in my life I didn't cry when I got hurt...Why cry? I was alone.
I looked at my broken bike and my pain went away replaced by panic, like a crack head who just lost his stash. My bike! My beautiful bike: my everything! Fucked! No money to fix it. I needed a new one. Self control is everything. Self control by definition allows you to control yourself in the material world. If I could have controlled my limbs and eyes to the attention of the stump I might not have crashed. If I could have controlled my urges to ride my bike I might not have stolen one. If I had a dad he might have fixed my broken bike. There is an old Hungarian folk saying that I shall translate “If the hound hadn’t stopped to take a shit it would have caught the rabbit.”
Over the years I have associated many meanings with that saying. I think people are always only as good as they are now, thus I believe I have found the best meaning for that saying now. If your view point changes after watching certain actions unfold in the world but your actions remain the same then how shall I say: “the Devil is you”…
All my young friends are dead. I tried to kill myself and have the scars to prove it. The Devil really tried hard, it didn’t want me to spread the news. I could fuck him up. He took control of my body many times to try to run me into the ground on my bikes over the years. If the Devil is death and ultimate extinction, then God must be life and ultimate survival. When my sons crash their bikes and break them I won’t fix them, because there was no one there to fix mine. What I will do is give them a chance: I will show them how to fix it. They will then get to choose. After all, the only reason God allows the Devil to exist is because if he got rid of him he’d be just as bad.
Take that to the bank bitches!