What We Really Want

I don’t want much from life.  I really don’t.  I don’t want fame and fortune and all that.  Well, I wouldn’t say no to fortune, but I really don’t need that much.  While I have certain expensive toys, I am not at living on a budget.  I grew up poor, and it’s a skill you learn.  But I genuinely don’t want all the trimmings with my life.  I could live pretty simply and never grow dissatisfied.  I can imagine a life now that would make me very pleased.  As I sit here, imagining, a smile is on my face.  But that smile leaves, as quickly as it came.

The first thing I want are sunny days.  Winter has arrived where I live, which means a lot of darkness and cold.  I don’t mind the dark, but not when it is the entire freakin’ day, you know?  Not when I wake up and go to sleep to the same darkness.  Not a fan of the snow, either.  It makes the roads miserable to drive on, it’s a constant pain in the ass and what’s worse – it is here for seven fucking months.  I really wish that climate change would get a move on, because I am SO done with winter.  It’s barely even started, this year, and I’m done with it.  I want sunshine.  Something where I find a shady spot and lay in a hammock, drinking something nice and cool.  That is the kind of days I want.  Starry nights where I can watch the sky and count the endless spectacle of cosmic beauty that is the universe.  It is something that I always think about.

Cannon Beach SunsetThe next thing that I want is wind. I love the breeze.  Growing up, when it was stagnant in the summer, the bugs were out.  And if the bugs were out, they were thick.  That’s summer for ya.  But wind has always felt right to me.  As right as when I used to swim in the lake I once lived on.  I could hear the feelings of the world on the wind.  Sometimes it told me a soft tale of days gone by, and good feelings.  Other days it told of cold thoughts in broken places, whipping and biting.  Then there are the strange winds, like the warm in the frigid winter, or the bitingly cold in the heat of summer.  Like the wind and the forces behind it are playing a game.  That kind of thing is what I wish I had all around me, all the time.  I remember my time in Seward, smelling the salty air that was carried on the wind.  It is always windy there.  Part of the charm.

You probably guessed, but I want the ocean to be there as well.  The sound of the waves is probably my favorite sound in nature.  The water gently crashing against the shore, as a reminder of what it is to be alive.  I would listen to it while in my hammock or swing chair.  I’m cool with either.  I remember this really large one that a family member had with a shade blocker on it.  I could lay in that thing all day.  Well, back before I was the giant that I am now.  Good memories.  But I would also prop my bedroom window open at night, letting the waves gently let me know that it’s alright to rest.  Maybe my endless insomnia wouldn’t afflict me so much there.  Who knows.  But yes, I would sit on the beach, even if it was rocky instead of sandy, and watch the waves on the shore.  Watch whatever creatures I could.  Go out and inspect tide pools.  Yes, I don’t want sand.  No tide pools on a sandy beach.  See what life forms grow in this little part of the world that I get to be a part of.  I don’t mind not being able to swim in this water.  After all, we pump so much shit into Rocky Beachthe oceans now that most water around beaches is toxic.  I want somewhere where I can watch life.  Life is what it is all about.

The house doesn’t have to be much.  Indeed, I would prefer if it was something simple.  A one-story place that a guy can live comfortably in.  I would like a decent media room.  A library, if it were possible.  But the real gem of this place would be my kitchen.  I’d have a window that looks out on the ocean, while I bake and cook.  I would watch the waves and feel their peace guiding my hands.  I would have a little veranda that would have my hammock or swing chair, along with a smaller table and a couple of chairs at that as well.  After all, why have a wonderful kitchen if you aren’t going to entertain guests?  What’s the point?  Indeed, I would want to have occasional company.  Whether it be a companion who I spent my night with, or a friend who is always happy to talk.  Yes, it would be a place of memories.

So, that is what I want from life.  I don’t think it’s too much.  Alas, given how shitty things are for pretty much everybody who isn’t rich these days, I guess it is.  It is too much to want to have the good life.  You have to be lucky, wealthy and have a lot going for you.  I falter in all three categories.  So what is there for those such as me?  Where is our little chunk of the world with a beach?  Where is our tide pools?  Where are our windy, sunny days?  Where is the good life for us?  No-fucking-where, that’s where.  It’s in our imagination.  We cry as we sit here, desperately wishing that we could escape, go to this mystical place.  But it’s all a dream.  A sad dream of better days.  Days where we aren’t alone and unwanted.  Days where people talk to us and want to hang out.  Days when we are not having to wish upon stars that things get better, because our efforts to make them so get us no results.

Are we so wrong?

Until next time, a quote,

“So, is this everything you were hoping for?”  -Joel
“Jury’s still out.  Can’t deny the view, though.”  -Ellie, The Last of Us

Peace out,



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