I just got an email about possibly being included in the 100 most influential people in English language teaching. All I had to do is fill out their form, answer their questions, submit a photo I’d like to be included AND pay $129.95 USD. LOL. What indulgence!
I was reminded of a few things after reading this email and hitting the delete button.
One. Mother and son in Florida, over just a 3-day period made 30,000+ USD just walking along the street and selling a gold flaked certificate. Free, 100% guaranteed entry to heaven. $100 each. You do the math. They got jail time, I kind of felt sad for them. Whoever bought should have done the time.
Reminded of all the people passing through my life. Special people. People I lived. Dying. Dropping like flies. And yes remembered. And yes, I posted all my thoughts on Facebook and on their funeral web pages. I hope it helped their loved ones. However, in a few days, I’d forgotten all their great accomplishments. Their degrees and books don’t mean a thing anymore. Entropy. It’s all gone. They, You, She, Him, We aren’t special. Reminded me of this poem and of course the book that says all this much better than I ever can Ecclesiastes. If you do one thing in your life - go rent a room somewhere, sit alone, and read that damn thing. Think about what the writer says. Figure it out as best you can.
So, you think you're special, eh?
Cast a 1,000 ships with your glance,
Know Pi to 3,000 places,
You've smoked Cuban cigars with Fidel and
even kissed the Pope's ring.
Well .....
You ain't.
Ain't special and never gonna be.
You are a fly on the wall
maybe killed, probably not.
You are an accident of nature
the decisions of a decision of a decision
and then the night,
conceived
like everything is
wet and tired
but not special.
Oh sure, you are top of your class
Yeah, you've got a room full of medals
and even have people who'll buy you beers,
poor sods ...
you aren't special -
you're a random number,
a smudge on a blackboard
the smell of death unnoticed
in Michelin restaurants.
Sorry, I got to give you the bad news.
You are not special.
Everyone will forget you
once you're gone.
Everyone will move on
once you're gone.
So alas,
quit trying to impress.
Cut up that card - American Unimpressed.
Don't think about what you'll wear today -
for nobody gives a shit (except that old, you).
Dance, let your beard grow.
Laugh, let your tits sag.
You were meant to be forgotten.
An ink mark in a ledger
never to be found.
But you are here.
So just be happy with that.
Happy for the moment,
you aren't going anywhere.
“Enjoy life with your wife, whom you love, all the days of this meaningless life that God has given you under the sun—all your meaningless days. For this is your lot in life and in your toilsome labor under the sun. Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might, for in the realm of the dead, where you are going, there is neither working nor planning nor knowledge nor wisdom.”
- King Solomon (maybe) Ecclesiastes
Thank you, David. Got it.