The Faux Pas Press #191: Colors of Rusty Ruins

 

Victory does not happen all at once. Sometimes it does find you all at once I suppose. But gradually victory has little meaning when it is only celebrated by oneself. And I don't mean to say that you can't experience victory alone. And I'm not saying that your should guilt your more successful friends into talking to you; the rationale being that they 'shouldn't forget the little people'. I mean if you have to forget the little people and have victory all alone then fucking do it. I don't think many in our culture would fulfill a semblance of their dreams if they didn't break the ties of home. So, by all means, break ties if you must. And forget about the little people. They are only has little as they want to be. If a loved one gives up then that is on them. Victory can be had in many strokes. Usually it doesn't come in one big stroke. (Disclaimer* - I don't pretend to know victory at all. Failure seems more common and expectations lowered often seem more fulfilling.) But if you are like me (and if you are reading then I assume that you are), you probably find little fulfillment in even considerable achievements. My argument today is that you should.

Building, building, and building upon private victory, soon you find yourself in high points, overlooking the treacherous land you've braved to reach it. We pray and falter along the road, trying to find the perfect moment under the Sun. It does happen sometimes, doesn't it? But here I am listening to the chimes of Internet Radio, lounging while my brothers sleep, trying to find victory in some way. What do I know?

Home is closest while away. Time is most precious when tomorrow is not guaranteed. Our strides are bravest when we feel cowardly. And the definition of bravery then becomes the amount of positive action taken when we feel the most frightened. So, that is it then. Bravery is greatest in the presence of great fear. So, we choke back tears who should have poured but didn't. We breathe air as if it is our last. We prepare the way for those to come and we write our journals; we fill the pages for our children so they can face the darkness. We fill the pages of our history to share wisdom we may have learned through sad experience. Our greatest prayer being that our children may be kinder to themselves and others than we have been to ourselves. Light streams to all of us. Some hide it and others do not. So are the colors of rusty ruins we leave - some still holding their luminescence.