My Lust for Life

No. It's not a Van Goghesque desire or moment. Its purely mine but, then again Vincent would have felt the same way. Anyway, my lust- for life. 'My' lust for life. Have say this to myself over and over again to start knowing a different me. The me I want to be, planning to be and have no hope that I will. Have to repeat the 'My Lust' part to assure myself that I own this dream, that it has a chance of happening and then a fear creeps up my spine. How high are the prices of such a dreamy fanfare called life which I want for myself?

My lust for life, my thirst for a solution in strife, the dearth of a life called freedom here on earth. Yet, a few seemed to have got it their way. Sacrificed a hell of a lot to just breathe that one breath of pure and lung burning fresh air on the highway, facing spotlights on stage, on the bed, in the studio, by the causeway, down the barrel of a shotgun or maybe even in a hole of a cell under the starry sky. So, who am I? How do I make the choice?

I have realized that until the desire, longing and a spiritual pressure of sorts exceeds every sort of reason that holds one back from taking the plunge, an average person will never just leave everything, let go of the strings and fly away... The same morbidity is consuming me slowly but surely. I am just a thud away from breaking free but, then again what about my approaching illnesses? My tonsils and cancerous or precancerous sores etc. etc. My fiance and my parents... Oh hell! What about everything?? Go kill yourself whydonchya?? But again, these are true fears if you will of a completely middle-class, tamed and logical mind. Where will I find a doctor in the middle of an Arizona highway if my throat starts bleeding suddenly or if my spleen bursts and and I hallucinate due to pain and crash my car into a road train and so on and so on- my head seems to say.

So yeah my devils workshop decides that what I want is a balance of a free life with the security of love, the bonds and the depth of a woman, maybe a family and some friends. Aha... so you want to sit with Lucifer on the ivory dining table drinking Rhenish wine out of a jade cup and yet tell him how pained you are about malnutrition and starving children on planet earth? Or better still I should just go and nail myself to a cross in the middle of a desert with a placard around my neck that says, "Wannabe leper messiah without the balls to lose everything..."

Yeah so, we both dream of that kind of a life where there is an equilibrium of personal freedom, individuality and impulsiveness yet a semblance of a home and peace and love in each others arms. Lord almighty!! Like thats gonna happen. I laugh myself to death thinking about something like that. Coz absolute freedom always tramples over any institutions and iconoclasm and vice versa... So, here I am imprisoned everyday in my own cusp of freedom, death, bonds and fear. So basically I have to choose between one pure moment(s) of life, the grim reaper, love or myself. What a predicament! I am in this self-sustaining nuclear prison that has gone critical. Graphite rods anyone? Or maybe a pinch of a Hadron collider... Complete subjugation or limitless pure energy. I am such a lousy dreamer! Hehehe...

I'm the sprirt in the sky
I'm the catcher in the rye
I'm the twinkle in her eye
I'm Jeff Goldblum in "The Fly"
Who am I?