A Lifetime of Just One Chance

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There is a grandeur fading all over this nation.

We are an empire, one consumed with trivialities. We contemplate all the day long our menial tasks, what to eat, what to do, where to go. These things should be born of necessity, but instead we’re begging for them to be displayed like highway signs.

I speak with friends. We take of nature, what small testaments are left to this nation which once would have been boringly common. National parks dedicated to trees that aren’t even what they’re sold as. Did you know Redwoods aren’t actually the tallest trees in the world? Douglas-firs are. We just eliminated them all. Put thousands of miracles to the ground.

If that baffles you, or even if it doesn’t, did you know that 40 hour work weeks are not normal? They’re a complete sham. Essentially disguised slavery, they’re a contraption as rudimentary as a mousetrap designed to help us plod along a something bigger than us. We’re free labor for a cog so large we can’t even see it spinning.

I feel, at 36, well enough experienced to conquer these questions.

What to eat?

Anything you can recognize. A fish, a vegetable, a chunk of meat. When the packaging requires no ingredients, that means it’s food. When a box is required, well…

What to do?

Because we are so unimaginably bored we need a constant stream of Facebook ads to invigorate our minds? There are mountains to be climbed and swings to be swung. Kayaks to scuff and swimming holes to be swum. If you don’t have a kayak, dip your toes in. If you can’t swim, dive in and hold your breath. If hiking a mountain seems daunting, get the fuck daunted.

And if you need be told where to go? Well just go. West is always a good start. And then anywhere a mountain seems to be. Just go. Get indefinitely lost in failing to understand what anything actually means. Fast. Eat mushrooms. Be crazy. Live like dying young is an option even when you’re very old.

You will be dead. Soon, maybe not, but we all face it. I haven’t done it yet, so I don’t know, but a piercing shriek before the end where you look back on a few decades of intoxicating adventure sounds better to me than a yawn and a nod to some dream in a cloud.

So please just let it be known that, while the fade can take on a persona of lackluster, it can just as easily tone in the vivid while tuning out the excrement.

We are as wild as we choose to be.