Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Wish.

Wish.

Wish. ‘Do you wish your life was different?’ Everyone does. That’s what I’d wanted too. Thinking that my existence was so completely flawed. That’s when it caught my attention. Those words reminding me what I wanted as I thumbed through the Lifestyle section of the Morning edition. The newspaper with its words reached out. The ad with the red block letters spread across the picture of a person lounging in a hammock above the words ‘SEIZE THE DAY’ and small type black below it ‘call 1-800-M8K-WISH’ speaking to my troubled mind and soul. Thinking without any doubt a life change could be so easily grasped. Hands gripping the black white and red feverishly as I dial out the unknown code.

Why couldn’t I be satisfied with the life I had? This seems to be the thought that troubles me day in and day out while I rot at the bottom of the darkened room. No window. No bed. Time passes without notice.

Eyes focus inward on the beautiful image. Imagination swims with possibility of the unknown. Ears listening to the beep beep beep of the buttons of the phone. Heart pounds with excitement for ANYTHING. You should hope and want for something. Not anything. Misdirected intentions are quite the distractions. Dial tone erupts into a ring. One. Two. Three. Warm voice picks up on the other end of the line. Bubbly. Happy. Talks for twenty minutes about how wonderful it is to speak with me. Asks about what is stopping me from completely my life’s goals. Acts like it is interested in my life. That voice doesn’t care. No matter what the voice says, it doesn’t care. You are another number. Next cattle in the line for slaughter just waiting for a knock to the skull. But you won’t realize until it’s too late.

A small slit in the door distributes food at preset intervals. No one to watch me eat off the floor. Hands scooping the soft globs amidst a sea of icy liquid from the soiled floor. Floor that is covered in my own filth that I can not see. Body has no sense of shame in the dark. This is what I chose.

Every day the voice calls. Please call back. And you do. Arranging money. Aspiring future plans. Once you pay then we can proceed. Earning. Paying. Week after week. Hopeful for the life in the crumpled newspaper ad. A life without a purpose because you wouldn’t choose for yourself. But it’s something to fill the nothing. Finally one day the voice tells you it’s time. Don’t pack a heavy bag. One change of clothes. You won’t need anything else. The life you want is waiting for you. 5 AM. Meet at the street corner of Ninth and Thereafter. Tell no one. When you get there, you’ll never want to come back.

If I truly had a choice I would never come back to this place. This deep dark hole.  A place with too many sounds and not enough light. A coldness that lives continually in my bones. Waking to incomplete memories. Pains that I can’t explain. A hostage to crazed lunatics. Caged animal waiting to be euthanized. A moment that never comes. Sitting in the dark wondering if my life that wasn’t different enough could ever be the same. Careful what you wish for… you might just get it.

Two. Edit. Proof. Correct. And I’ve probably missed a few mistakes. I’m ok with that. Careful what you wish for? Nah. Make sure you wish for the right thing. Think of the genie in the bottle. He’s a trickster. If you aren’t clear, he will find a way to trick you. Cover all your bases and hope for, ahem, work towards something. Not just anything. Undirected energy is bound to misfire. Promise it will produce good results. The submission process has turned up a good lead. Haven’t succeeded yet, but definitely doing the right thing. I’m gonna say ‘I’m taking it.’ Keep your fingers crossed. Enjoy! M.


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