Anchored by the weights of elbows, his cross-fade begins to diminish, like political lapels stating their beliefs from “Al Gore 2000” worn into a weathered “Gore 20”. If not but for blood vessels on Theo’s face breathing in and out, I might have mistaken him for a marble statue, a figure still beating against the sun, a painting stored atop of a house – dusted and forgotten; he was frozen like Saturn’s son, forever immortalized by Goya – to suffer. Acquitted only by movement. Resembling Prometheus as he turned our metal bodies into forgiveness.
“Jesus Christ dude, is this how you see the world?” He asks as he drinks his Long Island; neon yellow with a dispersion of Pepsi. Theo loves his Long Islands “They make them extra large so you can prove your points in-between gulps.”
Inside a tropical-themed bar, I order some chicken wings; extra spicy with the sauce on the side. He orders Ahi-Tuna tacos.
As the waiter walks away, I look at Theo “I just don’t think I’m obligated to see other’s actions as good or bad. It’s not fair.” I didn’t order anything to drink, but the waiter brought a water still. It’s nice when they do that, a favor owed with no obligation to return. “Look, I’m just saying, all I know is that I haven’t felt this way before and I want to take it at its face value – what’s the point in doing the ‘noble’ thing if it’s been undermined by years of shitty coping mechanisms and pseudo-authenticity drowned by vices?”
I throw my hands up like the man in the Third of May 1808, either defeated or in defiance, and just like a laborer would say “We’ve always been told that the real failing is about giving up and not trying again. What if, it’s something entirely different? What if none of these things are connected and it’s all too complex to break down into a sentence? A paragraph? A day? A year? A lifetime? I mean, what the hell is ‘So that we can learn to pick ourselves up.’”¹
“Yea,” Theo says before an unnecessary drink, “ but with that premise, it means that I’m justified in thinking you are wrong without offering any rebuttals or criticisms.” – now he takes his necessary drink.
We sit outside, under the awning, the wind is heavy but we cover our napkins with the drinks. The wings and tacos were more than expected. I eat and soon fill up. Later that evening, the waiters light up the overhead heaters, they heat the patio and people stand and laugh with strangers first, then their friends.
Maybe this is what Prometheus wanted – to turn our metal suffering with artificial sunlight. To heat our frozen bodies so that we could always chase joy and when we finally achieve it, harness its energy and keep it inside a bone prison layered by clothing that we call our lives.
¹Batman Begins effectively communicates why we have such a hard time finding happiness. It’s not about going to Vietnam to find our inner strength so we can beat the villains outside of us. Maybe Batman Begins should have ended with the scene in which Batman’s parents die, because that kind of trauma lasts forever and the rest of the movie should have been spent helping orphans develop healthy behaviors for the future.
Chubenn all along 