*New and improved with more butts.
At some point in our conversations I was going to have to become Dad. Believe me when I say this is really weird for me, because I want you to just “be.”
There is a balance between the alcohol and the sex and the cocaine and the pot and the grungy-cliche metal and the hip-hop without sentiment and the necessity of chasing after the next thing or the “it” moment. Normal people are not generally cool. Normal people, like myself, don’t do great things that can be tweeted or instagrammed or posted or chatted or acclaimed in any way. The delights come in small doses, not immediate, critical acclaim. Sometimes I make a good meal, or sometimes I read you that bedtime story like a motherfucker or sometimes I keep the apartment clean so we can both live happy and worry free.
There is life between the crescendos.
It’s the life that is not celebrated or critically acclaimed. It is the banal existence that everyone you know and always will know experiences on a daily basis. There’s comfort here, kiddo, and it’s taken me a long time to see it. Sometimes I wonder if I have given up on my dreams of doing something great. But the banal existence kicks me in the right direction and lets me realize that I am in a constant flux of doing something really good. Really good is under-rated. And perhaps you’ll see that as cop-out bullshit, but you’ll one day see the same way I do. That life is about making yourself happy every day.
I have, finally found a balance. I am, despite my best efforts, happy. I am a happy guy. I have a job that people send resumes in to get, pleading. I have a
kid that is the envy of most parents, you. And I have love. I have love for so many people, sometimes people that I am compelled not to love by my peers. My heart is full and I an aspiring to live the complacent lifestyle that comes from contentment. It sucks, as a “hipster” in the streets, and a conformist in the sheets, in a way. I want more but I am pacified. That’s not a bad thing, fella. You should live this way. Chasing happiness and not chasing misery. I did it. I am a conformist.
“Don’t tell me how to live my life.”
I can’t say I won’t tell you how to live you life, because I will. I will try so desperately to make your life an extension of my own. But I will make a promise to you. I will remain open. I will not judge you as a person for your faults, because, really, your faults are just my own, in a way. I want you to experience life the way you see fit. I want you to love yourself. I want you to be content with the way you find yourself at 31 or 32, I’m actually not sure at this moment how old I am…
After doing the math, I am 32.
Just live your own life, buddy. Just find the happiness. It doesn’t matter what you are doing or who you become as long as you can honestly, truthfully say you are happy.
I am happy.