Liberation

I just deactivated my facebook account.

On a warm but overcast day,

before there were names for the days or months or even an inkling of the length of an hour, a single celled organism looked to his right and then to his left. "Friends!" he exclaimed to the surrounding microorganisms, "it is time to make the most of our lives!" whereupon he flung himself out of the primordial stew and onto the earth.

One day in September of 2008,

the day, in fact, after the seventh anniversary of the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, and Shanksville, PA, a man, an author, named David Foster Wallace ended his own life. His attention to detail and poignant depictions of the sometimes haplessness, sometimes hopelessness, and always beautiful urgency of the human experience were beyond compare.

Sarcasm: the lowest form of wit.

I am trying harder than I ever have to be less sarcastic and more authentic. I've realized that sarcasm is a defense mechanism that I developed at an early age to cope with whatever undoubtedly normal but nonetheless overwhelming insecurities I had about my looks, my sense of humor, my intelligence, my popularity. It's a relief, at times, to live the absurd life, to say things that are illogical, extreme, and ultimately meaningless.

But that defeats the purpose, doesn't it? I think it's time to find new ways to be funny.

What I want out of life is to make genuine connections with the people around me, to forge meaningful relationships, to impact lives for the better -- and to hope that the effort is reciprocated. How can we accomplish any kind of sincerity with our tongues always in our cheeks?

Awakened by the clamoring of an engine's inevitably futile efforts to remain static, she lay prostrate in her bed, her head resting flat where a pillow ought to be. The feeling enveloped her, as it was known to do in the morning before she was properly awake, that there was no place she would rather be than right where she was.

Epitaph

Strived for sincerity but fell short.

The Party

She sat on the gold velvet couch watching everyone watching everyone.