Warning: self-proclaimed genuis goes a rye.
I would do anything these days for that headline. I’ve done enough reading up on Cervantes to know to reclude into a quiet life of sanity will be the death of me. But madness has taken 7 of this cat-from-the-wrong-side-of-the-track’s 9 lives. I remember (like my oddly specific memory always seems to be able to pluck from it’s overcooked turkey of a brain)…I forgot. Aries mate for life. I remember every drunken night. Sometimes I wish I could not have it balking back at me. Sometimes a smile that comes from a wonderful life filled with exceptional people and remarkable stories sneaks up and tickles the hairs on my neck. I’d be very happy to get to spend a life dedicated to art, but sadly, there is nothing more tragic. I feel bad for celebrated actors who still are on television. Writers waiting to die, their best work (in measurement of passion) behind them. I think it is a bad signature when people care more about what they will leave behind rather than what they have left. It all will drown me like a tsunami. I’ve read twenty-two books this year and I am trying really hard to convince myself it’s not out of spite. I don’t have enough people in my life to spite, but there are a few who deserve fame more than me. I hope I can remain successful in obscurity. Not intentionally, but I don’t want to sour the mood of everyone who saw me awkwardly grow up and fit into my oversized wardrobe from high school learning I outbid them at a penny auction. Talk is cheap. Words these days is even cheaper. I love to read the same way I love to run. It gives me a sense of relief once I’ve done it. It is meditative. Occasionally I look forward to it as a substitute for a pack of cigarettes. I still look for clues in my everyday life that there is mysticism to everything. Occasionally I can break through the surface, but it is always a friendly reminder from the equivalent of a skeleton with train tracks for a smile, that the universe is not always safe or comforting. If life wasn’t a little bit dangerous, I know I’d get bored to death very quickly.
Ben Bonkoske 