If Only, . . .
. . . the world could return to a simpler time. My fingers would not be tapping against a keyboard but pressing firmly upon keys of a typewriter or perhaps guiding a quill over parchment. Over complication of the incredibly simple would be a thing of the past and we all once again embraced the blessings of family and community.
. . . we were more accepting of one another. Perhaps it is what is lacking within us that prompts us to find fault in others. I often wonder if everyone felt satisfied with who they were, how that would translate in the way we relate to others. Automatically, the movie Phone Booth comes to mind. Colin Farrel gives a wonderful performance in this film and I consider the point when he finally breaks down and provides a confession of why he acts the way he does, one of the best scenes in a movie ever.
I have never done anything for anybody who couldn’t do something for me. I string along an eager kid with promises I’ll pay him money. I only keep him around because he looks up to me. Adam, if you’re watching, don’t be a publicist. You’re too good for it. I lie in person and on the phone. I lie to my friends. I lie to newspapers and magazines who, who sell my lies to more and more people. I am just a part of a big cycle of lies, I should be fuckin’ president. I wear all this Italian shit because underneath I still feel like the Bronx. I think I need these clothes and this watch. My Two thousand dollar watch is a fake and so am I. I’ve neglected the things I should have valued most. I valued this shit. I take off my wedding ring to call Pam. Kelly, that’s Pam. Don’t blame her. I never told her I was married. And if I did she, she would have told me to go home. Kelly, looking at you now, I’m ashamed of myself. Allright? I mean, work so hard on this image, on Stu Shepherd, the asshole who refers to himself in the third person that I only proved I should be alone. I have just been dressing up as something I’m not for so long, I’m so afraid no one will like what’s underneath. But here I am, just flesh and blood and weakness, and uh and I love you so fucking much. And, um, I take off this ring because it only reminds me of how I’ve failed you, and I don’t, don’t want to give you up. I want to make things better, but it may not be my choice anymore. You deserve better.
. . . we could slow down. I think of all the rushing around so many (myself included) of us do on a regular basis. We speed down the highway in haste to a destination as unspectacular as a grocery store. Within the store, rush around again to get home and rush around some more through chores. For what? Where is the joy? For me, I am attempting to find joy in everything I do and that means taking my time. Easier said than done, I know.
. . . we all did one thing that helped another person each day. This relates to the first point. Could you take a moment to imagine if we all reached out to help anyone who was in need? The simplicity of this concept could be defined by just giving food to a food bank or volunteering for any worthwhile organization.
In summary, I share with you the lyrics from Us and Them by Pink Floyd:
Down and Out
It can’t be helped but there’s a lot of it about
With, without
And who’ll deny that’s what the fighting’s all about
Get out of the way, it’s a busy day
And I’ve got things on my mind
For want of the price of tea and a slice
The old man died
If Only, . . .