Security.

I wonder what happens to people? Why do their minds get old? Isn't there enough wonder and joy out there in the universe to keep us amused, entertained, excited, learning?

Why do people become flabby in body and mind, inflexible, thoughtless? Why do they pillory all they love, become a travesty of their own dreams, give up? Who told them they have the right to give up?

If you are going to be dead inside you may as well lie down so everyone else knows it, prevent all the time wasted in treating you as if you were alive. Or you can resurrect yourself, have a chat with your teenage, hopeful self, see what he or she suggests, recall the dreams and joys that were once you. They are all still inside you. Right now they may come out in distorted forms, misshapen by fear and doubt, by long practised hopelessness, the essence is still inside you.

There is joy and hope and wonder out there. There is. There is new love, new work, new ideas, new fun. Our culture hands it all to you, it's easy to find, easy to achieve. Easy enough anyway, the hard work is part of the fun. The only price you are asked to pay for all this is your security. Doesn't sound like too much to me, considering your security is an illusion anyway. I could take it away in minutes if I wanted to.

This is why we grow old, we value security above all else, subscribe to the mass psychosis that such a thing exists. We all know that change is constant, why should our state of security be immune from this law? Everything changes. Jobs end, relationships end, lives end. Of course we have to take care of business, a roof and a table must be supplied, to believe these physical situations are permanent, that you are the font of all wisdom for having ensured them is the start of dying inside.

Life is short, forgotten once it ends. Why end it prematurely by ceasing to live, to explore, to think, to feel? Why not risk all and live? There is plenty of time to be dead, securely locked in a box, when the time comes. The time will come. Until that time, live you fuckers, live!

Parkstreet.
www.kentparkstreetblog.com