Dear Mr Rosenberg

*THIS WAS SOMEWHAT OF AN EPIPHANIC CONVERSATION I HAD WITH A FRIEND, SOMEONE I FIND REFUGE IN THE ACT OF RUBBING MINDS...IGNORE THE MISUSE OF IDENTIFIERS. I BELIEVE THAT WHEN TWO MINDS INTERTWINE AT THIS LEVEL, IT ALMOST ISNT NECESSARY TO SEPARATE THE TWO. PARDON MY RANDOMNESS...ENJOY*

A friend of mine asked what made me happy and my response was something along the lines of, 'moments of clarity, when the pieces fall into place and everything seems alright.' or some such nonsense and I don't think that anymore… I think happiness is a drug. Now what do I think? Everything we are sold, every little bit of capitalist society, sells us happiness… it is the ultimate product and function which with every purchase and modern action we strain to achieve. We are told it is the result of a perceived and highly subjective "success". I believe happiness, despite what we are told, is not the answer…it is not something you can have everyday, or every moment of life. At least, not in the way we have been taught to conceive of it. To proceed in such a manner is self indulgent and grossly destructive. instant gratification, if anything, will be our downfall, if it has not already become such by way of the recent recession happiness and success, if they are to be believed in at all, are the result of a life well lived with moderation, balance, and a great deal of honor and integrity…they are the product of positive and benevolent action, and of work well done. After years of drug use and partying, I feel pretty comfortable saying that happiness doesn't come in a pill or a person. You educate and inform yourself as well as you can, uplift and enlighten your self and the existential status of as many of your fellows as you can, and when you have truly crafted a job well done, THEN look back and be proud. If you must find happiness in your daily life, find it in knowing that what you do is of merit and what truth you have found…this is not to say that we must follow some Judeo-Christian notion of morality in order to be one…but I believe that the notions of success and happiness in the modern world have become much maligned and we desperately need to reassess our priorities and the stratification of our goals in life. It’s my personal belief that greatness or excellence in one's endeavors is often a distancing factor from those who did not, could not, or would not achieve such things. In the manifestation of these actions, such choices have been attributed to ambition, passion, drive, motivation, power, madness, obsession, etc. my struggle at this point is to find a manner in which i may still pursue that which inspires and informs my existence, while not impeding others' pursuits in the process. What makes you happy? Pussy…ha-ha… not a bad answer in truth, pussy is a powerful and beautiful thing…I asked you that question because I don’t know what makes me happy? See, that's my point. That question is one we've been indoctrinated to ask ourselves I am constantly searching for that next best thing to grasp my attention and spark my intellect. But is that what equals happiness to you? I just said it… something that grabs your attention and sparks your intellect. That’s what makes you happy… I’m afraid that all I will end up with at the end of my quest will be a handful of trifles and insignificant pieces of information. So maybe the answer to personal happiness is not a singular object but an intellectual and emotional state that's all any of us ends up with… I doubt my clothes will ever unravel the fabric of the universe… this is what I’m saying: maybe "what makes you happy" is not the question… and maybe happiness is not the answer the pettiness of it is all over what you just said if you're worried that your efforts at happiness won't mean anything, perhaps it's time to find something that does mean something to you a lot of my unhappiness stems from a fear of inconsequentiality and the fact that what I’m doing ultimately doesn't matter…the thought of me dying without possibly feeling that sense of true happiness no matter how short lived it is...kills me.

Party Bus

A friend of mine recently celebrated her birthday and in typical DDK fashion, she rents a "party bus" till 3a.m so we could all bask ourselves in alcohol and "enjoy" the night. Although this day was meant to be "all about her," I saw it as a metaphor for my life. Throughout the day, she ran errands and hyped the fast approaching night, she was filled with energy and as enthusiastic as a bridezilla who awaits the breaking point...it was "HER" birthday, "HER" bus, "HER" rules and she could do anything she wanted. As it neared 10 o'clock, she increased the volume and the yells became louder "is everyone ready?!" "The bus is here, get your asses out!!" "SHUT THE FUCK UP!"...and the louder she got, the less attractive the concept of "free alcohol" became...I thought to myself "someone shut this bitch up"...but she was right! It was her birthday and she could shove a 20inch pole down her throat if she wanted to.

I know I got a little carried away with the roommate bashing, but my point here was to make comparison between this party bus and my rather interesting life. In my early teenage years, this was my approach to life...it was MY party, MY rules and if you didn’t like it, I got more outrageous and rebellious just "cos"! It was all about me and if you didn’t approve, you could have a glass of cyanide on my account. Later that night, I approached the alcohol bar at the back of the bus and put my bartending skills to work....MISSION: increase the blood alcohol level of everyone! The correlation between alcohol intake and energy in that bus was a ridiculously positive one! Everyone got louder and louder as the music drowned in their voices...the tower of Babylon couldn’t have made it past the foundation if these fuckers were present. "D...D...K!!" Mo screamed...and everyone co-signed the chant! Yes! We are "fun" people.

As I looked around, I noticed that clothing items on these women were gradually and significantly reducing...even I bust out the splits...twat hitting the ground like ouch! Back to my oh so interesting life...at some point, I wanted to do everything...multitask and take the world down one shot a time! I "bust into the splits" and took risks that were unexplainable, I did things because I realized that people were watching and it mattered to me whether or not they felt I was better than the next person...my drive was not within, but merely fueled by those insignificants who might or might not have noticed the impeccable skills I displayed when I did the splits...once again, please do not take any of this literally.

Occasionally, I would get a little tired and sit for a while...wiping the sweat off my face and my ass hits the seats on this bus, Mo would yank me and "make" me dance to this song because she needed a "partner"..."oh! Let’s do the stroll" she would say and I would watch my reluctance turn to excitement...my life? YES! those times when it was only right to "stop," that one person came along and knocked me out of my pessimism...told me I could do it...gave me just enough energy to get me up and left me with no PUSH...nothing to keep me going, so I end up standing there with sore calves, then I turn around and realize some bitch took my seat! aarrgghh!!!

Occasionally, we made the bus driver pull over as we needed smoke breaks...at some point, the driver decided to park in a gas station...now I definitely know that this is a metaphor for not only my life, but many of you!...sometimes we pull our buses over in a gas station, knowing damn fucking well that it is filled with a bunch of drunken 20-somethings who make it a point to remind you that they "don’t give a fuck" ...sure! They have lighters and cigarettes...and sure, there is petrol and diesel all over the place...but oh well, hop out and put your lighters up wont cha! This reminds me of those stupid decisions I made in the past...those decisions I knew were clearly outrageous, but I went ahead anyway...like a stupid woman who has unprotected sex and crosses her fingers in hope for her period a few weeks later.

After a few more smoke breaks, being refused entrance into the club because we "were too drunk to party with the rest of the normal world," a long unnecessary walk on the beach as a last resort to forcing the "fun," and an argument with someone I was extremely vexed by for "slapping me on the ass"...well, shit, I asked for it, next time I would limit my display of flexibility to my bedroom! Finally a long ride towards "home," was in progress. I found myself on a bus with entirely different people from those I got in it with. We were drained; we could no longer keep up with the lyrics and had no energy to sing along. We constantly looked outside and turned into 5 and 6 year olds yelling "are we there yet?" every ten minutes. We just wanted to go home! We had enough of seeing bare ass and lesbians in action. We were tired of exchanging bodily fluids via whatever form of contact and after five hours, smelling the next person's sweat made you want to vomit. WE HAD ENOUGH!

Well...my metaphor! My life! gosh I think I can really say "I’ve been there, done that"...of course the height of someone else’s' rebellion marks the bottom line of innocence another person claims...We got home and everyone hopped out this party bus not looking back. At the end of the day, we went on a journey, some highly unnecessary and some well needed. As for me, I wouldn’t have traded my night on the party bus for anything; however, it always felt good lying on my bed and going to sleep...my life? the party bus...intoxicating yet very interesting; exhausting yet educating; demanding yet exciting...I wonder what the bus driver thought of me when I made my exit to lay in my bed...I wonder what you will say about me when I leave you...well, all I can say is life has been and continues to be filled with experiences and encounters...and I encourage you to embrace and acknowledge the details of your own party buses! Goodluck!