(Quote from Jack Kerouac's "On the Road".)
I am taking in the water, the hot water. This is condensation solitary paradise in this grimey shower and any surface not exposed to the heat and pins of the water hitting me is hell to my body. See I always craved inconsistency. Here, the water is never just right, never. I always turn the hot faucet to the right and the cold to the left in 5 minute intervals. It would seem that I conditioned myself to not be conditioned to anything constant in my shower and ultimately in my life. I could always go a little hotter it seemed, but never, no, no, never back, never a little cooler. This is how I operated I guess, in this ceramic, steel and damp sterilized atmosphere I called paradise about every night at approximately 1:30 A.M. My skin was glowing red and hot, and an almost euphoric sense of all things holy in tactile awareness hit me with the contrast of the heat of my skin and the cold tile floor. This was perfect, it indeed was my usual temporary paradise. See, all thing possessed their innate utopia in its own form. The cold tiles fulfilled their means to be cold as they are, as they always should be, and my skin in essence was perfectly coy to the receptors of temperature and touch. You will tend to find as I did in this confinement, that when things are seemingly not as they should be in your life your life can always return to a safe default mode of a simple theory of all things relative of “it is what it is.” And oh, this was it.
Don’t try to find your life at the bottom of the shower floor, watching the water droplets roll off your eyelash in your peripheral. It simply will not work. And with this in mind I simply raised myself back up off the floor just as simply as I fell to it. There was tomorrow and next week and months to be had.
I wrote the following as a simple, late night passage as I do when I try to capture moments and perfect thoughts that are made simple in one instant setting. I never have a perfect life and that never seemed to bother me. I always thought that human conditioning was a skill to be mastered through rough times and heartache. If anything I write to release and give comfort not only to myself but others who may find themselves in this sort of life wondering rut that is both beautiful and chaotic at the same time. Kerouac's work and style of expression inspires me a lot in my life and writing. My message in the end, embrace your life, you've only got one yes, but you have an infinite amount of chances.