We Think About Mortality So

I Wanted To Tell Her That Being Loved Is A Talent Too, That It Takes As Much Guts And As Much Work As Loving; That Some People, For Whatever Reason, Never Learn The Knack

But Give Me More Credit Than That. Someone Else May Have Dealt The Hand, But I Picked It Up Off The Table, I Played Every Card, And I Had My Reasons.

Regardless Of The Advertising Campaigns May Tell Us, We Can't Have It All. Sacrifice Is Not An Option, Or An Anachronism; It's A Fact Of Life. We All Cut Off Our Own Limbs To Burn On Some Altar. The Crucial Thing Is To Choose An Altar That's Worth It And A Limb You Can Accept Losing. To Go Consenting To The Sacrifice.

Now Death Is Uncool, Old-fashioned. To My Mind The Defining Characteristic Of Our Era Is Spin, Everything Tailored To Vanishing Point By Market Research, Brands And Bands Manufactured To Precise Specifications; We Are So Used To Things Transmuting Into Whatever We Would Like Them To Be That It Comes As A Profound Outrage To Encounter Death, Stubbornly Unspinnable, Only And Immutably Itself.

Maybe She, Like Me, Would Have Loved The Tiny Details And Inconveniences Even More Dearly Than The Wonders, Because They Are The Things That Prove You Belong.