February 19, 2021

Anchored Alan


Would that he could, but Alan could not. The world just felt too heavy to move. An anchor. A man of the world, perhaps once, now sunken by it.

Would that he could get up, but Alan had enough of rising. Enough fighting. Enough difficulty. And now the path of least resistance led nowhere.


Was it just laziness? To believe nowhere and everywhere are the same place?


If he couldn’t positively imagine himself rising from the couch, how could he put such an optimistic spin on his current, nowhere yet everywhere state? Who did he think he was? Buddha? 


Even Buddha created his own happiness, his own rationalizations. Nirvana is but a state of mind after all; the body and soul have to buy in after the mind is made. 


But Alan doesn’t necessarily want a state of nirvana. How practical is that, given his current state of blasé? He really just wants to have fun. Which could only be done if everyone around him was having fun. And even he knows that everyone has fun in their own way. 


But he’s seen fun. The undeniable kind. Festival fun, on a grand scale: music, dancing, drugs, bacchanalia… Roman fun. Joy: pure and simple and true.


Would that Alan could live in that moment…


But it doesn’t last. It never has. Will it ever? Must it be fleeting? Is it a necessary law of nature?


Alan supposed nirvana superseded that law. So maybe that’s what he’s really seeking after all?


But to find as much, he’s probably going to have to rise.


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