Wednesday, October 8, 2014

Life's Metaphor


Originally Posted Tuesday, July 22, 2014


I didn't understand Anita's comments the other day when I stole the rat poison image from Amy Crehore's site.  Now it is clear.  She would have stolen this one of the girl and the record player instead.  I will steal it now and I should steal it later.  I should make photographs of many of the artist Karl Hofer's paintings.  I could become an image thief. 

After my debauched weekend, I needed to quit drinking for awhile, so I started last night.  Bad idea.  It seemed innocent enough, but when I woke this morning, my back was hurting.  After sitting in a chair all morning looking at the computer, I got up, maybe too quickly, and that was it--BAM!--my back seized up in the old way.  I am in complete and utter agony just now unable to sit or stand or lie down.  It is that kind.  I am sweating with pain instead of liquor.  That's what I get for not drinking. 

Life is full of cruel ironies, though, and pain.  My back is only a metaphor for life's condition.  I will choose to view it that way at least.  Yes, mine is the suffering of all humanity whose guilt is beyond denial. It is what we get for ever being happy.  It is what we get for the things we do. 

I must go now and see if I can make myself mobile and carry out my duties for the day.  It is just so sometimes.  And like everything else in life. . . it will. . . be replaced by some other horror.

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