A COUNTRY’S GREATNESS

Unhappiness comes from walking alone, not going along. Go along and you won’t be alone. Climbing ladders is good. Especially if they are not made of chicken coop wire. Rushing blindly into dark streets, bumping into chicken coop ladders and trees is bad. Steel business ladders are a testament to a country’s greatness. If you don’t walk like a normal person but rush blindly on, then the more you run, the more you knock against trees and ladders made of chicken coop wires.

The more scared you get when you get scared, the more you close your eyes like when you eat something yummy and delicious. When you are scared and close your eyes and run, your head spins and gets bruised.  Then one day, as luck would have it, you reach your goal, your goal of goals. You open your eyes and voila! you’ve made it. You’re in the system and the system’s in you. You’re not alone. You’ve gone along. It’s not so bad. It could be a lot worse. You’ll never walk alone.

Much unhappiness comes from walking alone. When there are many of us, it’s different. Then we are together. And we get in the habit of listening to each other. What the others say concerns us too. That’s how we learn, how we learn who we are and what we must do and for whom; learn what is expected of us and how to do what is expected of us, how to deny our own interests and how to laugh at our own interests. That’s what makes a country great.

Everywhere there are battles we must fight. Fighting is where the money is.  At the same time we must be vigilant and uncarefree. We are in a battle that we will win. Winning also is where the money is.

I am reminded of the famous poem by Tom Paxton:

Now that I’ve taken my life, hiding the dampenings
Scouring the stubborn stains erasing them carefully.
Breaking the dreams of a life and interring them prayerfully
My telephone never stops ringing
Now that I’ve taken my life

Now that I’ve taken my life, pleading reality
Mumbling moralities, and losing the child I was.
Smiling my youth to the wall and recalling how wild I was
I’m a very popular man
Now that I’ve taken my life

It was a foolish life I know ivory towered and quite out of touch
It was a life that had to go I guess I won’t miss it much.
For the solid gold winners are standing in line
And dangling a solid gold key
They take me to dinner they pour me my wine
They ask very little of me

Now that I’ve taken my life, remembering the April air
My hands in a cursory prayer my eyes and the crowd outside
The music is merry the laughter is comfortably loud outside
And the laughter I’m hearing is mine
Now that I’ve taken my life

It was a foolish life I know ivory towered and quite out of touch
It was a life that had to go I guess I won’t miss it much.
For the solid gold women are standing in line
And dangling a solid gold key
The very best hostesses pour me my wine
Extending their daughters to me

Now that I’ve taken my life, hiding the dampenings
Scouring the stubborn stains erasing them carefully.
Breaking the dreams of a life and interring them prayerfully
Ah there’s clearly no stopping me now
Now that I’ve taken my life.

Advertisements

About judyjablow123

In my youth I was a world class tournament golfer. I earned an MA in history at NYU, after which I knew I had had enough of academia. I have remained a student of history. I have a strongly personal - almost entirely negative- take on the contemporary pharmaceutical and mental health industries. That was the impetus for my Bluepolar blog, which will also include stuff on sports, history and anything else that strikes my interest.
This entry was posted in Thoughts. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s