Context is...
A Caretaker

Context

TL;DR: Life is anything but a straight line.

  • Originally Written: 14-Sep-2020

  • Word Count: 1487

  • Read Time: 5 minutes

Content

Imagine opening a book to read about a hero story where, with a wave of a magic wand, all the unhappiness and torment that ailed society for so long had suddenly disappeared out of thin air.

Vanquished.

The end.

Sounds like the most boring story I’ve ever heard of. If you’re going to tell a good story, there needs to be a reason to be bought in to even getting to the end.

Of course everyone wants world peace. Of course everyone wants child hunger to end. Of course we want those things.

But then we want other things. And then we need things. And then really need things!

Priorities happen. Life happens. Things get in the way. Stuff doesn’t work out.

Circumstances are circumstances, yeah I get it.

But at some point or another you don’t encounter an experience quite like the others are having and you start having a bit of trouble for yourself within a matter.

When we have these troubles, we are new. Naive to the pains and troubles we are about to endure for not knowing enough or feeling prepared or even equipped to handle what is coming ahead.

Trouble?

Sounds like something with my name on it.

Trouble is what you’re going to be getting into if you decide to rock the boat and cross lines you wouldn’t normally cross.

Confusion is what comes about when, rife with conflict, your loved ones are not there the way we would expect or hope they would or could.

Insignificance is what we feel in relation to obstacles we now have before us.

But that’s where I come in.

Because you’re not insignificant. You are, in fact, statistically significant.

You’re the finest off the line, custom print, made-to-order (maybe).

Made exactly how you want to be. Or wait, was that correct?

Made exactly how you want to be.

Nope. We don’t get that choice in life.

In fact. We get choices in life to bring us to our next outcomes, which brings us on to the choices we make thereafter.

Choices are how we cosmically create the universes we want for ourselves as we perceive them inside our own minds.

The act of a choice means you have come to a decision.

A decision is made after formulating relevant evidence, reasonable conjecture, perhaps a statistic, significant as it may be.

It’s just a statistic.

But therein lies my problem.

When you treat statistics as just statistics, what you get is a lot of charts and numbers trying to prove you’re not the biggest jack-off to some institutions that are considered well-respected.

When you treat statistics as just statistics, you begin to treat your people in ways that are incongruent to what we’re all trying to achieve in the end.

World peace, remember that?

You get what you measure.

If you are going to measure your health based off of how much you smoke a week, or whether you’re exercising regularly enough, or whether you’re just being enough for yourself, you will get it.

What humans fail to see in the outcomes of their decision-making, however, is the impact it has on other people and those around them in ways they don’t even have the particular knowledge or wherewith all to know how to ask for that kind of feedback.

I get it. Life is hard enough as it is. But having a difficult conversation is bound to happen time and again and at this point you didn’t start reading my shit if you wanted to have an easy day for yourself.

I have so much fun in saying that because I have so much ego in my writing than I do as the human representing my artifice.

Given that, that is the intention behind this book.

What is the man behind the mask?

What is with all this mystery?

Or was it all done as some deviant ploy?

Who knows at this point, because I sure as hell don’t. But regardless, the intent of this book in name is to give context to things which I don’t think are often considered as we get swept up in the big stuff that life has for us.

When you don’t stop to pay attention, someone will notice if there’s a shimmer missing on those nice kitchen counter tops you bought yourself.

It may not show now, but maybe that’s the problem. It didn’t show now.

But then you go back through at a different angle, checking to see if the work was done just right.

“Right.”

Right is something we all take pride in. Right is something we work toward being. Right is how we work to accomplish things together.

Rights are how you do those things.

Rights are basic.

Needs no further explanation.

But for some reason, if your very existence in this universe is contingent on having to explain every intricacy and detail that comes with it, she comes with a lot of instructions to enjoy.

Life is what you make of it.

Make a loaf of bread. I don’t know.

We all have our own recipe for how we bake our own bread. No dietary restrictions here.

But if what you are serving is not what someone else is having for dinner, that doesn’t make the interaction terrible.

And in that interaction, unsuccessful as it may be, you have caught a glint of branding.

Yes. That was kindness in his eyes, if I daresay. Spotted in action and impressed in memory.

Might have been the most disgusting thing you’ve seen since the invention of the thought.

Mind you.

We all have places where we need to be, so let this book be something you can catch a glimpse of when you get a chance and I’ll leave it to my grandmother to worry about the framing and hype.

She has an eye for it, plus its her thing, plus you’re her favorite.

You’re her favorite.

I both knew it and hated it at the same time.

To be the favorite meant someone had to suffer. This is a natural occurrence as one would see a meaningful statistic.

Suffering is something you are used to seeing in environments where people should be given choices to think as free-thinking human beings may. (Reword)

Choices are what I see before me as a person of great privilege and I have been able to come to be with each choice made

If you asked me to tell you what all we have for ourselves. It is a choice.

What choice do we have?

To give a fuck, at this point.

When did we?

Let’s be honest. That’s why we’re in this whole mess we’re in right now.

If you aren’t focused on your waist size, it will invariably grow as time progresses as a sign of getting older.

This will be hard for you to cover up the more that time has gone by.

It’s almost as if, we’ve run out of reasons to be filled with our own bullshit.

But what was the point of it all? Oh yeah! That damn waist size being the cause of so much gripe.

Yeah that’s it…

Oh. I love you too Gram.

Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way.

Yeah right. The mental health thing. We’ll worry about that later.

When a grandmother chooses her favorite, she is not just making something that is circumstantial.

Mind you. To a point, it doesn’t matter how much homework you’re doing if you’re not taking the trash out.

If your room stinks, maybe you should investigate?

I was such a spoiled brat.

Okay. Still am.

I love you Gram.

Thank you for everything and more.

I wish I could impart the same sense of warmth and grace.

It is through stories that we truly live forever as what they teach us binds us together more firmly than what we may see.

Stories are how you hear about something that is not like your world.

The intent of this is to do just that.

To give an honest recount. To pave the way through stubborn intent.

If I am fucking anything. I am a troll.

Troll: to carefully and systematically search an area for something.

Why am I a troll? Good question, I’m glad you asked!

**toggles sit-stand desk to make a point**

By definition, I am a person who refuses to stop.

If I know of a way to do something better then I cannot unsee it.

So when it comes to picking favorites. I know what it’s like to not get that kind of attention all the same.

Favorites are only favorites if they were from a basket of choices.

Choices are all that we create when we make the choice to bring a child into our lives.

Nothing beyond that is a choice.

If I have one choice in this matter.

I will live on through my stories.

I Love You Gram.

Thank you for everything and more.