it's your asphalt
Two men. Born on the same day, in the same hospital, in the same room, at the same time, by the same staff, with the same amount of relatives present who are equal in every way. (I think you get the idea.)
These two men grow up in the same town, with the same teachers, the same friends, the same opportunities, the same kind of love and the same limitations.
They are, in every way, equal.
On the same day, on the same road, in similar cars, both men are driving in the same direction, at the same time. One is in the left lane and the other is in next lane over. However! The man in the right lane finds his lane full of slower drivers and he quickly falls behind the other man in the left lane, who's lane is moving along swiftly.
The man in the right lane feels that life has treated him wrong. Life has screwed him and this always happens to him. He's sure of it. His frustration is complete.
It would seem that the only time you notice your choices, or your fate or your luck is when these things seem to be working against you. I'm sure everyone feels that they are cursed every time they pick the slow line at the bank or at the grocery store. The question I have is - When you do get the fast lane or the effecient line, do you feel lucky, blessed or special?
It's a special kind of torture that we inflict on ourselves when life seems to do us wrong. We can look at the blessed few that live the world of rapid fire lines that are just to our left and right and wonder, "Why"? Why should they be so lucky while I suffer so? Even in the story of the two men in seemingly identical worlds, the man in the right lane is asking the gods why they have foresaken him. What did he do to deserve this?
It's in our nature to feel that our world should run according to our rules at all times. We rebel against "fate" everytime she forgets to bless us. (Do you remember the post regarding how we are the only real drivers on the road and that everyone else is an idiot, not us?) How often have you argued with someone about something you know nothing about and they are practically ARE the knowledge. (screaming at a nurse for not treating a friend or loved one the way you would... This happens a lot.)
Everyone's world is riddled with bad luck. It may not be as obvious to you how much bad luck other people have, but that's because you aren't paying attention to their life, are you? You selfish bastard! Even my world suffers from a perpetual curse which I can't explain: I have visited more than my fair share of Subway restaurants in my day, and I have seen all sorts of service in that time. I have seen quick sandwich artists, the pleasant, the generous and the outrageous artists. It's these artists sandwiches that make me want to eat at Subway, time and time again. However, the sandwiches I remember the most and the ones that make me feel unloved by the gods are the ones that I have eaten made from the dim-witted, the dull, the just-out-of-rehab, the sandwich-phobic and the cash machine inept "artists". I know I am staring off into the great void that is my future and I wonder out loud, "why, oh why, have the sandwich gods placed so many crap sandwich artists in my path." Life just likes to torture me. [side note: it's these same degenerate sandwich artists that grow up to run banks and grocery stores]
Is it karma, or is my life really cursed? How come I don't feel blessed when the sandwich is perfect? Why do I feel this overwhelming urge to assault the lady with four items in her grocery cart who is standing in line in front of me and taking forty minutes to pay for them?
Two men born into equal lives... Both will suffer the great misfortune of knowing that life isn't always perfect. But one will take it personally.
These two men grow up in the same town, with the same teachers, the same friends, the same opportunities, the same kind of love and the same limitations.
They are, in every way, equal.
On the same day, on the same road, in similar cars, both men are driving in the same direction, at the same time. One is in the left lane and the other is in next lane over. However! The man in the right lane finds his lane full of slower drivers and he quickly falls behind the other man in the left lane, who's lane is moving along swiftly.
The man in the right lane feels that life has treated him wrong. Life has screwed him and this always happens to him. He's sure of it. His frustration is complete.
It would seem that the only time you notice your choices, or your fate or your luck is when these things seem to be working against you. I'm sure everyone feels that they are cursed every time they pick the slow line at the bank or at the grocery store. The question I have is - When you do get the fast lane or the effecient line, do you feel lucky, blessed or special?
It's a special kind of torture that we inflict on ourselves when life seems to do us wrong. We can look at the blessed few that live the world of rapid fire lines that are just to our left and right and wonder, "Why"? Why should they be so lucky while I suffer so? Even in the story of the two men in seemingly identical worlds, the man in the right lane is asking the gods why they have foresaken him. What did he do to deserve this?
It's in our nature to feel that our world should run according to our rules at all times. We rebel against "fate" everytime she forgets to bless us. (Do you remember the post regarding how we are the only real drivers on the road and that everyone else is an idiot, not us?) How often have you argued with someone about something you know nothing about and they are practically ARE the knowledge. (screaming at a nurse for not treating a friend or loved one the way you would... This happens a lot.)
Everyone's world is riddled with bad luck. It may not be as obvious to you how much bad luck other people have, but that's because you aren't paying attention to their life, are you? You selfish bastard! Even my world suffers from a perpetual curse which I can't explain: I have visited more than my fair share of Subway restaurants in my day, and I have seen all sorts of service in that time. I have seen quick sandwich artists, the pleasant, the generous and the outrageous artists. It's these artists sandwiches that make me want to eat at Subway, time and time again. However, the sandwiches I remember the most and the ones that make me feel unloved by the gods are the ones that I have eaten made from the dim-witted, the dull, the just-out-of-rehab, the sandwich-phobic and the cash machine inept "artists". I know I am staring off into the great void that is my future and I wonder out loud, "why, oh why, have the sandwich gods placed so many crap sandwich artists in my path." Life just likes to torture me. [side note: it's these same degenerate sandwich artists that grow up to run banks and grocery stores]
Is it karma, or is my life really cursed? How come I don't feel blessed when the sandwich is perfect? Why do I feel this overwhelming urge to assault the lady with four items in her grocery cart who is standing in line in front of me and taking forty minutes to pay for them?
Two men born into equal lives... Both will suffer the great misfortune of knowing that life isn't always perfect. But one will take it personally.
posted by Daniel Loomis | 7:17 AM
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