Resist, resist, resist—what about the virtues of just going along? By “virtues” I mean “benefits;” there’s no time for virtue. Maybe I’ve taken it all too literally. The books I’ve read and the stories I’ve admired and the philosophies to which I’ve been drawn—so many have resistance at their core, or so I’ve felt. Maybe it’s just in my core, and that’s the reason for the draw. Resist the shitty little town where I grew up, resist the shitty bigger town where I high schooled, resist jobs (all), resist people (most), resist urges (some), resist temptation (generally), resist captivity, always captivity (always). What about submitting, what about going along to get along or getting along to go along or going to get along along?
Not long ago, I thought I was trying that out, and finding it a smoother path overall, less fraught and less thorny, though certainly not without its bumps and potholes. Then, I thought, it becomes a matter of learning to steer widely enough to avoid tired metaphors (see previous sentence). The rest, as they say, is fate. But is it? Don’t we just draw the line of fate’s beginning where we think we end? I mean, don’t we end where fate begins? Do we ever end at all? Now that, my friends and enemies, is a question for a Tuesday.
Author’s note: Don’t worry, I’ll soon return to poetry and holy things. I’ve got some extra time on my hands this week so I’m taking advantage of the opportunity to write some extra shit in that extra time. I hope you like the extra shit and tell other people about it too so they’ll like me. (And yes, I know there’s no such thing as extra time. There’s only time—time to kill, time to waste, time to spend, time for extra shit. I forget that sometimes.)