As if by some sick cosmic joke, I’m currently bombarded, daily, with the same question over and over. Relentlessly. What do you want/ want to do for your birthday? .. Over and over. Such a terrible time in my life to ask such a stupid and mundane question of me. Because of the marking of the anniversary of my date of birth something special is supposed to happen? Some magical thing? Doubtful. Every Birthday. Every Christmas. Every New Year. Every Shooting Star. Every 11:11. Every Eyelash. Every Dandelion. Every waking and dreaming moment. It’s always been the same wish. Nothing has changed. Since birth I’ve asked for one thing. Sure Maybe in recent years, I’ve become a little more specific about the one thing. But the thing remains the same. And You know what. For the Past billion occasions in my life it’s never come true. Not a Christmas. Not a New Years. Not a Birthday. Not at all. . “Well, maybe you just want something too complicated” .. No. I’m afraid not. I only want the most simple of things. A basic human desire. I don’t think it too much to ask.
Yet again, Father Time rapidly accelerates our roller coaster of life toward my next annual milestone. Yet again, my life has managed to fall apart entirely immediately prior to such a time.
But. For now.
I fight on. Sword drawn. Wings Spread. Rushing up the mountain. When I reach that cliff at the top. It’s fall or fly. Take my hand and fly away with me. Intwine your fingers unto mine and take a leap with me. Soar with me. Fall with me. Just be there with me. For me. My soul is useless without you.
adarkspot 