Unwanted tenure, you arise from a feeling of self doubt, self loathing. Of course, I assume I deserve your presence, your gnawing...I even doubt my doubting. Words to describe what I'm supposed to learn, please. Notions of security in my own psyche, if you don't mind. "Arise fair sun and kill the envious moon." Arise fair moon and prepare a death bed for your impending demise. My impending rebirth.


A Faulknerian Analysis: Part 4 of 10

Having met you, learned your faults, experienced your multitude of talents and positive attributes, shared every detail of being--at length--whether hurtful or humorous, I can say with assuredness when I die--to the man guarding the entrance to eternity--when asked, "Have you any regrets?" that I, Daniel Thomas Richards (esquire), have but one: that in the limited time God, bog and the rest gave us in such a frail existence--seemingly filled with sorrow, suffering and few rare glimpses of hope--that I did not know you long enough; that I did not take advantage of every moment of our time together; that I did not tell you sooner what you deserved to hear and what I needed to say; that if given the chance to find myself bundled in winter garb on a frigid winter night staring intently at our work of art in the pristine snow, I would be honest, open and generally more sensitive with my words at that moment and every moment hence.


Perhaps, I give up--finally--on an idea, a concept with inevitable results totaling zero. A squirrel once told me I was insane for holding on to any bit of the idea, finding any comfort in past versus future dictation, developments and the rest. "It's only going to lead you down a dirt sidewalk," he said with a smile reserved for philosophical contemplation. "You'd be better off reading Dune while playing chess with a broken clock and neck. Tick tock." He said, "Tick tock."

So, I ignored his advice. He was, indeed, a squirrel after all. I held on. And when I fell face first into thorns, I simply squeezed tighter. Prayed.

Then I took off my glasses, like I was asked--and needed to be asked--and walked into a brick wall with a Magic Eye placed firmly in the center, a picture of a door buried in the red and black tones.

I saw the door; thus, it existed.

I felt the wall; thus, I didn't want it to exist. Perhaps, if I only I had a mirror...

Perhaps, I give up--finally--on an idea, a concept with inevitable results totaling zero, a concept on which I should have given up A) from the start B) from the squirrel C) from the wall D) from the false door E) none of the previous.

Perhaps, I give up--finally--on an idea that has been the most important and life changing "thing" that has ever happened to a biped people on this blue spec. Regardless, I, like you, am simply allowed.


How do we manage to live, humans, in an environment seemingly designed to hinder our survival? Dependence seems plausible, needing someone else with which to share the experience a reasonable demand. When does individualism trump said dependence, if ever? If merely finding love is the meaning of life, it seems as if everyone attains their goal.

I want to be profound someday. Need.


ARMtell: I haven't had to resort to blackmail for dates very often
ARMtell: I've been single since March...I'm not horrifyingly desperate. Not yet.
newmanMU: Interesting. Is there a point when one is horrifyingly (I prefer to use "horrorshow") desperate?
newmanMU: ...I just met a guy who got married for the first time at 75.
newmanMU: Was he desperate all that time?
ARMtell: that's cool
ARMtell: I don't think a point comes when one is required to be desperate...certainly not out of sheer time spent single
ARMtell: so no, he probably wasn't
ARMtell: but I know people who are desperate two minutes after they leave someone
newmanMU: what makes one desperate?
ARMtell: willing to date anyone, regardless of attraction to them
newmanMU: (defined as: showing extreme urgency or intensity especially because of great need or desire) But how/why become that way?
ARMtell: damnit, philosophy man
ARMtell: I don't think people get desperate on purpose, it just happens
newmanMU: Why does it happen?
ARMtell: I've never thought "hmm...she's disgusting white trash, but I'm desperate, so what the hey?"
ARMtell: societal pressure to mate
newmanMU: oh.....see, now we're getting to an answer.
ARMtell: couple off
ARMtell: conform
newmanMU: so the "higher level" more intellectual and "evolved" among us, theoretically, shouldn't succumb to such a fate?
ARMtell: a general feeling of inadequacy when alone
ARMtell: I would say that is correct
newmanMU: now....how about practically (as opposed to theoretically)?
ARMtell: the majority of people feel the need to conform, or at least feel pressure from whatever source(s)...only the few, the proud remain single and don't give a shit
newmanMU: so, what you're saying is that marines stay single...
ARMtell: exactly
newmanMU: I get it.
ARMtell: finally