Who do I still think I am??

This one's about us and them, life, and road signs.

30DBC PROMPT: "Us And Them" by Pink Floyd.  

Good afternoon y'all! Screw Creation Saturday...I think we need to have more music-based prompts on a regular basis! But if we were to only get one in the foreseeable future, Pink Floyd isn't a bad way to go.

I know we're supposed to craft some kind of corresponding story or poem, but nothing's coming to me at the moment. How about an obtuse interpretation of the lyrics  ? This isn't meant to define the song or be taken seriously; like a horoscope, this is for entertainment purposes only.

Maybe "Us And Them" isn't about external conflict...maybe it's about the wars we have with ourselves, in our minds. It's knowing something in good conscience, and then pondering what the consequences would be were we to go against our better judgement. To explore and shatter limits. To overindulge. To wonder what lies beyond ordinary wonder. Are we human, or is there something else we're up against?

Do we overcomplicate life sometimes, making more out of simple situations than is really necessary? Are we living complacent among a nation of fear? When is too much not enough? What if the only true answer is death itself...that the point of searching is that there is no point? We spend our entire lives searching for meanings that don't exist. We want to touch things not because they're there, but so we can hope to learn more about them. After all, what more do we have if we don't have hope?

Who we are on the outside is just an acquiescence of our most mortal desires. We all strive to be bigger and better than what we end up being...we're our own reasons but that doesn't stop us from believing we're gonna be more. We're never quite satisfied, are we? There's always something we can change if we had the power to, and the fortunate few who can will always look for something else to manipulate. There's an example for everything; the goal is to not be one.

That's the beauty of music...the open interpretation and the spawning of inspiration. So many great songs can lead you in a thousand different directions, depending on your mood. The only thing holding you back is your level of willingness to see beyond the words in front of you. As long as you're able to sort through all of the mindless crap that's out there, the world becomes an all-star greatest hits compilation rife for mental deconstruction. But maybe- just maybe- we're only meant to sit back, listen, and enjoy...without saying a word.

BCF PROMPT: "As a sentient adult, you are very aware that life is not a bowl of cherries or a paper moon. So what is it? Pick a metaphor filling in this statement: LIFE IS JUST A_________________."

Hold up...I actually have to look up what "sentient" means. Ok, yeah, I guess I'm that. And I think I should offer this as a fair warning: anyone who says this regarding life   runs the risk of getting curb-stomped American History X   style.

Life just is. It's a gamble, a crapshoot, a fallacy. It only takes but one turn to find yourself in the very opposite situation you're in today. You just...you don't know, and most times it's out of your hands. Life is for living...no time to be void, or save up on life; you gotta spend it all.  

But if I'm gonna play along nicely with the prompt, I'd have to say life is just an excuse. We're here for whatever reasons, and things happen...well, that's life. Y'all can't tell me more than the basics about how we came about, yet we blame everything on it. Car died? That's life. Lost your job? That's life. Spouse cheated on you with the mailman? That's life. Fuck man, if that's life, why do we even bother? It ain't like anyone ever says "Got a raise...that's life!" or "Welcome to our new house...that's life!" Naw man...that don't happen. Everything that gets torched seems to earn that particular epitaph. We're a society of people that can't appreciate the basics without also reveling in our discomforts and disappointments...we need to feel like we're as human as the next person, and the only way to do that it seems is to one-up the minuses of those closest. Y'all hate those people, and I hate 'em too, but don't you tell me you've never been guilty of playin' up the "Oh, that's so sad, but here's how I had it worse" card. We tend to thrive on making others feel sympathetic toward us, like there's some magic cotton candy validation waiting for us at the end of the conversation. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred nobody gives a shit about your problems; chances are they're too wrapped up in their own...and what we are is just an escape. We're an ear and an example...but when the fat is boiled off the bone, we're just someone else's excuse.

MUSICAL BREAK!!

Because we're never really sure, are we?

"You said you want it. You said you need it.
What you don't know is I know that you can't get it."
Lyrics.  

THE DAILY BOX SCORE:

"If you had traffic signs in your house, your office, or any space you spend frequent time in what would they say? Would there be more than one?"

No frontin'...I once stole an NFTA metro bus sign on the way home from a friend's house when I was like 14. It was down on the ground, so I considered it fair game. They're a lot bigger in person than they are from looking up at them on random street corners. It was a bitch tryna shove that under my cheap letterman jacket, and when I got home my mom knew I was up to somethin'.

But the "6 Sycamore" sign went in my high school locker, a remnant of potential badassery in a life that seemed like every other bad decision had much worse consequences.

In reality though, in this day and age, I need a double-sided sign. "Yield" on the front, and "Do Not Enter" on the back. Don't try to talk to me when I'm crafting these words together that people seem to love...I don't want my flow interrupted and I'll likely have nothing of value to say in the impending conversation. On the other hand, I'm an open door willing to accept many different angles in a well-controlled fashion. I'm more than ok with a lot of stuff, and I speak my mind when I'm not. When there's a comfortable give-and-take, I'm accessible. I'm fair toward differing viewpoints. Don't be a dick about your position, have an open mind, and we'll chop it up. But if you stick me with propaganda, I'mma hafta shut your ass down. I don't have time for agendas. Straight up.

It's All-Star weekend apparently in the MLB, and I'm excited about the Midsummer Classic a little more than I think my Mets have a chance of making the playoffs. If you're a baseball fan, you'll appreciate this feature about all-star memories  . If you're not a baseball fan, we'll have to reevaluate our friendship.

I think after all of that I'm blanked out. Maybe I need a nap, or just more nutrition physically and mentally. Tabasco-flavored Slim Jims aren't the answer, but coupled with pretzels and Bison French Onion   chip dip, I think I'll be ok. Peace, eyes like x's and mouths like figure eights  , and GOODNIGHT NOW!!