Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Put Your Hands on Your Head (and take off that mask)

If I could just pick somebody and give them my life, they would be happy.  More than happy.  If I just chose someone and said, "This is all yours.  You can have the house, the furniture, all the things.  You get the car and the bank accounts, and you can have the job. . . .  What do you think?"  It would be like winning some jackpot. 

So. . . .

It would not be the same life, though.  The house would change, the living patterns, the furniture, the yard.  And it would all wear down eventually.  It is weird the things we hold onto and how they use us.  What matters, really?  Are you happier with a cocktail or a cup of tea?  Are you happy on a mountain or by the sea?  Are you with someone, or are you alone? 

At night, the questions want to come out and play.  I have not been sleeping well and have been thinking it is probably apnea, but last night without sleeping or waking, thoughts would come that would produce little shots of adrenaline.  I shouldn't, of course, say it is one thing or the other.  Both could certainly be at work. 

Someone asked me yesterday if I had seen the movie "I Heart Huckabees."  I knew I had, but I couldn't remember the first thing about it.  So many people worked so hard to make the movie.  So much money was spent.  And in the end, who remembers? 

Sometimes I'll think of a woman with whom I held hands, and be surprised.  "Oh, yea. . . how could I have forgotten that?"  I remember six or seven lovers, but I rarely remember making love.  I remember that a woman was enamored of it, then, sometime later, that she was not.  Or perhaps it was I. 

"Look, kid, take it all.  I'll even throw in the sweethearts.  I'm just tired.  Enjoy it.  Have fun.  I did, I think." 

Warren Buffet blasted bankers and lawyers and investment houses yesterday.  He explained how it all works or doesn't.  He is worth seventy-six billion dollars and is at least as old.  Is this what he thinks about at night when he closes his eyes?  What does he remember? 

I like the picture very much.  It reminds me of some childhood fantasy, catching criminals and other things.  "Hands up, Cat Woman!  You thought you would get away with it, I know. . . but now you're mine."

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