The Fool

  When I was younger and the Vietnam war was far more prevalent on the American consciousness, I wished I had been able to serve. I was about 5 years shy of getting the call and that was towards the very end of the war.  But since it was a mental wish, I also imagined a caveat that assured my safe return. How cowardly and selfish.

But that was my personal reverie. The misunderstood yet still admired anti-hero. Obviously too naive to contemplate the mental hardships that would undoubtedly haunt throughout my life. Still, I sensed my vision and especially my appreciation of life would be so heightened. I could perhaps lead a more fulfilling existence. And be welcomed into this broken fraternity of brotherhood. Nimble to surgically navigate that tragic poetry that only myself and fellow veteran brothers could possibly understand. A keen visionary with acute sensitivities to another world devoid of normalcy and good. I would fully understand the intricacies of survival yet silenced by this very knowledge.

The television solely illuminates my room as I have briefly fallen asleep. I awaken to a story of survival. Individuals who truly overcame insurmountable odds to climb the limited heights offered within an industry dominated by powers extremely foreign to their journey. I wish that I too had a more challenging story. A life filled with more strife and uncertainty.

I soberly step back and chastise myself for such foolish and privileged thoughts. I have no conception of even what that means. Or what a normal day would be like in such a world. Such a challenged environment. My normal and their normal were completely alien to one another.

I’m just a clown. With a life filled with unknown blessings. Still not enough. Selfish joker. But a fool to himself.