And you get dressed and go off to work. You kiss her goodbye and as you pull away from the drive with nothing but ordinary and as usual written on your face, she waves farewell.
She starts to pack her bags. First things first, the clothes, the shoes, the makeup, the boxed letters and poets she hid from you, the paintings she hung on the walls. The coffee maker, she'll need that at the very least. So she doesn't pick up after you today. She just packs and goes on her way.
She left without warning. Without even the slightest alarm. There is something in here moving her to run. She can't be settle in this world you want her in. A box with two bedrooms just in case. A nice kitchen and dinning room set. A beautiful couch and love seat and your stupid lazy boy.
And it defines you in more ways than one. You stupid, lazy boy. You don't realize what you have. You don't really understand all she has offered and all that has already been given to you. You stupid, lazy boy you have no hope in living. You just wait for the next day. You don't even appreciate your own breath. You stupid, lazy boy she was the only freedom you had.
Someday man will see that we have chosen all of this for ourselves. And on that day we will all pull into our over sized parking lots or garages with out heavy duty vehicles and we will shut and lock the doors as usual. We will enter the home like every other day. We will not feel her absence. But once we start looking around and feel nothing but emptiness we will then realize.
We will realize what we have given up for our stupid nine to fives. We will realize what knowledge, what wisdom we have truly sacrificed by our laziness of vehicles and televisions. We will realize our pride and our envy and that they are both in vain. We will realize our wrath immediately, here after and all we will want to do is cry. We will want to curl back into ourselves. Into the spirits that we are. But until we wake up from this pattern of living, this lifestyle of denial and spiritual blindness we will never see the face to true freedom.
Stupid Lazy Boy, you thought you had it all. You thought you knew it all.Stupid Lazy Boy, what does it feel like to come into conflict with yourself on such a level that it is rising like fire in your veins? Does it make you want to move? Does it make you want to argue? Does it make you want to write, to paint, to draw? Does it make you want to experience life for all it's beauty and all it's true. A beauty and truth recognizable by all humans?Does it make you want to deny me, freedom even more for fear that you have in fact been wrong in your existence all along?
I don't mean to cause frustration and I don't mean to cause angry.I don't mean to cause sadness and I don't mean to cause despair.But I certainly do not mean to cause apathy in thee.Oh Stupid Lazy Boy, you have power beyond your knowledge. Do you're best to wake up. There is a whole universe out there. Why don't you look around? Tell me what you really see!
"And the turtles, of course... All the turtles are free- As turtles and, maybe, all creatures should be."
Dr. Seuss
"Treat a man as he is, and he will remain as he is. Treat a man as he could be, and he will become what he should be."
Ralph Waldo Emerson
"To be nobody but yourself in a world that's doing its best to make you somebody else, is to fight the hardest battle you are ever going to fight. Never stop fighting."
E. E. Cummings
"The only people for me are the mad ones. The ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars."
Dr. Seuss
"Treat a man as he is, and he will remain as he is. Treat a man as he could be, and he will become what he should be."
Ralph Waldo Emerson
"To be nobody but yourself in a world that's doing its best to make you somebody else, is to fight the hardest battle you are ever going to fight. Never stop fighting."
E. E. Cummings
"The only people for me are the mad ones. The ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars."
Jack Kerouac
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