Me: Meh. Nothing serious. I go back to work tomorrow. Between Residency and the 2-day holiday I worked one day of the last two weeks. It was a nice vacation. Well, time for the second job anyway.
DNA: Hm. Yes. Do you know that’s something of a warning? Cosmically speaking, of course.
Me: How so?
DNA: Well, you’re a little disappointed because of the things you didn’t complete, yes?
Me: Yeah, but I’m happy that I did a lot of work on things that needed done.
DNA: That’s life, such as it is. As you are right now, so will you be when you realize that there won’t be any tomorrow to do anything at all. Here’s hoping you have the same attitude then that you have now.
Me: That’s…a little dark. Isn’t it?
DNA: How long have I been gone?
Me: Fair point.
DNA: There will be no more stories, no more Christmases, no more kissing away tears…none of that will happen when it is time to leave the world. You don’t understand that here is your heaven and your paradise because it is what you make it. You possess an abundance of love and opportunity and only have an average of 31,000 days to get it all in. The time you have is deceptively short and shorter still by probability.
Me: You’re not helping.
DNA: The lie of paradise is that you think it is forever. Not so. You have only so much time and then it is on to the next thing. You give your children a chance to enjoy it. The rest? Myth. Fairy stories.
Me: But…Douglas… you’re in a paradise now. One you didn’t even think exists.
DNA: Do you think a fraternity of psychotics is paradise? I woke up with Howard Lovecraft’s underwear on my face, placed there by Hunter Thompson over a bet he made with John Belushi. If Warren were still about, I’m sure the bet would have involved explosives. No, my friend, the Citadel is not paradise. Living inside your mind is NOT paradise. Oblivion is preferable. Make your joy. Make your world. It’s the only control you have in life.