Forgive me, oh ye creatures that linger in the dark, waiting so patiently for any glimpse of information from my behalf - a being from the realm whose nature light not always spot where the purpose of being is.
If by any reason your eyes came across with these brave words, it is only because you either had the misfortune of being recommended to read them by some altruistic foe, or due to some strange cause of fate that led you and me to come across once or twice in a previous scene of life.
So where am I?
In the glorious Lusitanian piece of Earth, once called Portugal! The creatures in the heavens will know why but even they will have to search in their lost files once classified under the rather opportune category – WHO CARES?
Life here works a bit like a fool trying to tame the waves in an oceanic storm having only the row boat and the fishing rod as utensil. In this analogy my brain and my witty motivation are the two pads I use to keep me in motion, but still they come in handy to keep the boat straight when the waves pass by.
My existence has passed through a rather hectic chain of events that recently collapsed in a month of total apathy, up to now, as I am a few hours away from starting my godly responsibility as a waiter. It has been a while since I have not stepped into the stage of the play “forks and butter knifes”, currently playing in any given restaurant out there in the world.
How does one accept the fate presented before us? I suggest a smile medium rare, with a side order of dedication, to make it worth it! Anyone can live it like a true Candide, where everything that is happening is happening for the best; or hopeful that somehow the boat will come around and take him to the Island of Pleasures where some Nymphs await to end the craving?
Would a good God, so kindly provide a craving and its solution for the human in the second row seat 23A?
Why should HE? Aren’t we all here just for the ride, knowing that there are some points of the journey that are unavoidable? How would the Gods ruin their Ultra-purpose? That would not serve in the best interest of any man. The best way to serve man, has any good chef knows is to roast it with some garlic, onions, seasoning and some potatoes, but this only counts if you are a cannibal!
But if you really want to serve man, you should just let it be, every now and then provide a few hints or pointers that will help him make a decision, out of the infinite choices there are for a decision.
For tomorrow, in that one restaurant in that specific corner of the universe I will do my best to grant a satisfactory point of passage to the countless souls that will share their time with us in exchange for some monetary equivalent and a piece of their mood! With this I hope to bring some desperate sense of meaning that has been eluding me for so long, which in turn will allow me to serve man in a much more enlightened way – this man being me!
I so desperately want to understand my role in this play of joys and worries that I sometimes forget to enjoy the simple fact of being in one. This way I can just let go of the worries that cause so much fuss and hard ache in what has become a confusing existence.
It is not always easy to be me, but it certainly beats being no one, and someday soon this will make more sense to you and to me. I hope!
So for now, ye minds of lore grant my dream of perchance becoming someone of who, you can be proud of saying: “aaraahhh, isn’t that bloke on the telly the lad that I met on that stormy St. Patrick’s day, down at Greenland Creak ?… I should’ve known that he had a special nature in those bones of his when I saw him pressing flowers with a sledge hammer…”
Keeping this in mind, I wish to you all of the best and I hope I can somehow help you achieve it, in the godly play “to serve man”. Being this in the restaurant of the salty waters or in any other set of life where we are bound to meet.
Good day to you all fellow humans! May this be another smooth ride in the giant blue sphere that is hurling in a spiral path through the reaches of outer space!
cocasman@zmail.pt
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