Ben Bonkoske

Friday. I’m in love. A new day for broken heartstrings and dead lovebirds on the sidewalk. As soon as I write about how good everything is, it hits the fan. It is a common solution to sabotage any progress and roll down a hill back to the start. Cuts, bruises, heavy breathing, the whole nine yards. I have read the first page of the bible probably a thousand times in my life and have never made it to the second chapter. It is a flawed happiness to be comfortable. People will never convince themselves that joy’s fleeting good humor will suffice for the rest of their lives. I’d rather be sad, clever, and ugly than laugh at my own stupidity for a lifetime. It has been a cynical week, and I’m sorry. Laughter is the highest form of intelligence. Why can we laugh so often and yet be so sad? Friday. I’m in love.