Questions without answers
I’m growing horns. At least that’s what it looks like.
I’ve got two huge underground pimples growing on either side of my forehead. For those of you who remember how prominent my forehead is, you can imagine the effect two identical red, pointy peaks might have, when placed at approximately horn height.
First of all, I was a bit nervous that what they say about jews was coming true…and that soon I’d begin craving the blood of gentile babies. Then again, poor dermal hygeine is certainly not an ethnic trait…and God help me, as much as I’ve tried to find (and beg money off) the evil Jewish financial empire, I’ve come up unsuccessful. Where are you people anyway? (CALL ME)
Then I got to thinking about karma (or if you want to stick to my first theory, mitzvot, and the opposite).
My generation is morosely self-absorbed…particularly those in my line of work. Not in the cokey 70s way. For us, today, if it even exists, is barly a passing thought. Where will I be in five years? Are my professional contemporaries advancing more quickly than I? Who will recognize me? Who will remember me?
Virtues like compassion, loyalty, and selflessness are used only when they can be employed harmoniously into the “master plan”, otherwise they are scuttled completely and replaced with a charming agreeableness.
Cynicism is rampant, except in our relationships to ourselves, which seem to remain pristinely idealistic, despite a total lack of justification.
Will we have to pay for these years of admiring our own reflections? Will we ever know that person we’re sure we’ll become…that person who lives at the center of the universe, smiling benevolently at the planets circling around her? Will we ever regret the fact that we hated ourselves while waiting for the arrival of that “someday” self? Will we remember the people who loved us while we were waiting, hating…
And what’s the point of having anything at all if we’ll never be able to have enough?
Perhaps my resentment, pettiness, envy, self-protection, greed, and vanity are calcifying into horn-like protrusions for all to see, betraying the mouth that drools platitudes and false praise, and the eyes that have been trained to sparkle and cajole on command.
Two little spires of moral and spiritual bankruptcy made manifest, if you will.
Or maybe they’re just zits.
