I don’t want to be King Midas.
He overlooked everything he had until he lost it all. No way in hell i wanna be a person who’s not being grateful and only knows how to oppose. The grass is always greener on the other side would be quite the understatement of the century in this case.
When i wrote this, my mind sailed to a man named Santiago El Campeon. Who doesn’t know him? An exceptionally modest yet gallant character from Hemingway’s novel back in 1952 who steals everyone’s heart by his endless bravery and faith. The fictional fisherman who battled out every day in the Gulf Stream is the antithesis of the typical real-life wealthy man who has almost everything in the world but still manages to find shortcomings every time.
I’m somewhere between nowhere and goodbye, in some dark, twisted place far between those two Legends. I’m not as fortunate as King Midas (in term of fortune, pun intended) and not having a shack wrapped around me to fight cold at night either. I just know that Santiago is everything so many today’s kids are not. His actions, governed by his belief in an unstated pride of a man, leads to the furthest road from being such an blind schmuck ass, like me.
Well, i’ve got offered things many people would lose a limb to get hands to it, but i still set my eyes up there, reaching something higher, and higher, and higher. While keep losing what i already had. Chance, age, vanity. Am i morphing into ungrateful little bitch, who bounds to see nothing outside her expectations, though it’s kinda like elephants in the room? No freaking way.
I know i was born stubborn and this obstinate pigheaded is something that came naturally, but line is drawn with a reason. I have no right in hell to criticize people like King Midas, cuz well, kettles would want to have a word with such pot.
Before this rambling can hurt our eyes even more, i think i ought to stop.