Monday, April 18, 2011

Open Letter to my Heart

Dearest Heart,

I know I blame you a lot, and not every source of misery originates

with you alone. You know how I love to throw parties, however, and a

pity theme is very en vogue. I don't have to spend a lot of

time in the kitchen worrying about food because there isn't but one

attendee and lucky me I win all of the games!

Seriously though, I know you can't help but be yourself, as you were

brought and formed in this world. Like any of us. But where does blame

go? My genetic contributors? I think they punish themselves enough;

they never needed my help. The Universe and its wonderful wizard

behind the curtain? Maybe, though it'd be awfully egocentric to truly

believe such attention to detail was bestowed on li'l ol' me.

The sad truth of the matter is there is no one to blame. No malevolent

entity or lack of prenatal care. The truth of it is: shit happens.

It's a frightening truth, honestly. It's easier and more comforting to

believe everything in life, no matter how minuscule to the workings of

the universe it may be, is purposeful. It's just easier for everything to

have a name tag on it to better mentally organize and cope. Oh, sure,

you can call it transposition of the greater arteries with ventricle septal

defect but really, in actuality, it's just One of Those Things.


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