Magnificent Error

it’s the mistakes, the ****ups, the things that “go wrong,” which make up the spice of life, which illustrate the memories that divide the passive livers from the doers who find themselves fond of the life they’ve lived in retrospect--- just think of the rights of passage which everyone seems to say they’ve had, the first kiss, first ****, the prom, the driver’s license, first high, first fight, first arrest, first paycheck, first debt, first this, first that & what makes it all worth it is the fact than none two is the same, because nothing can be planned exactly the way that you want it to be, no****ingmatter how much you try. so why do we seem surprised when someone starts to die? why do we get mad when the girl/boyfriend cheats, or when we reach into the pocket & there just ain’t enough moola for the meal that we feel we need to get on through, to get on through & yet still, we’re breathing. to adapt is to survive & to survive is to win--- there’s no achievement that will make you king/queen when the worms start to burrow their way into your rotting flesh, or when the last living grandchild knocks over the urn holding your dust, spreading it all over the living room carpet--- the hilarity of the matter, the beauty of the rub, is that every accident, every unscheduled deviation, every erratum, every miscalculated, misapprehended, misjudged, misunderstood, mishandled & mismanaged iota of life, is but a reflection of the whole random & meaningless generation of you & i, right out into existence, set to be erased just as quick--- so enjoy the absurdity of it all.