Day #4...
Three.
Two.
One.
RIIIINNNGGGGG
And we're off – I can't believe it. It's complete madness.
I’m not the only one who thinks so, either.
Steve's right beside me and Frank's trailing a little
behind, but he'll catch up, maybe.
I have no real idea why we keep doing this. I know, I know. We do it because it's expected and encouraged. But the damned rabbit we're all chasing isn't even real, it’s just some over-stuffed status symbol.
A metaphor for a better life perhaps, greener pastures.
If we ever reach it, then what? We win?
And who doesn't want to win?
But what did we really win? I’ll tell ya what – nothing,
except maybe heartache and bad knees.
Oh look, Steve's out. It looks like he twisted his leg. He
won’t be winning, not today.
And that's the catch, we run like hell because we're told we
have to. We push ourselves, sometimes way past the point we should and hurt
ourselves beyond repair.
Old Joey used to run with us. He pushed and pushed for years,
so hard that he drove himself mad, started getting really unpredictable,
aggressive, and began snapping at everyone. He was eventually taken away in a
white van, never to be heard from again.
Frank's pulling a head of me now, but we aren't done yet;
anything could happen.
This rabbit we chase, this proverbial carrot they dangle in
front of our face, is always just out of reach. Even if we ever do catch it, and let's face it, the odds are
against us, but if we do, there's always another rabbit, another carrot,
another race that we are expected to run.
One thing I do like though, at the end of the day, it does me good,
makes the stress of the race all melt away when I hear...
Good Boy.
Comment if you like.
Tell me what it all means, if you can. ;)
No comments:
Post a Comment