soapboxdiner

Beer and Willie Nelson: They made me do it.

Living too long on the cusp is a dangerous thing, you know? In the in-between time, you say goodbyes and hope expectantly that all your contributions will be exhaulted, and your leaving mourned. You give all you can give as you say your goodbyes with trepidous well-wishes. You pass along all the wisdom and knowledge you can.

And then you wait. All the things that precipitated your decision are magnified. And the esteem you've let blood to acquire, forgotten in anticipation of your absence; villification remaining in the wake, as the mourning you've sought is only disposed to anger.

And all the trouble once so important to conquer, now dispatched to the next guy. Figure It Out, Friend. Remember when you met my need for your expertise with your exaspiration? Well, maybe now this is your opportunity to understand. Or maybe it isn't, no matter.

And all the efforts of the past are forgotten, except when needed. But still then, the consultation is only grudgingly sought, and minimally rewarded.

And then you stay, but you are gone. You need them and they need you, but the paradigm has already shifted, and it's really not to anyone's BEST benefit. And everyone involved intuitively understands, and resents.

(Except for the guy who climbs the ladder on your back, and reeps all the honor and benefit from the foundation built by YOUR hands, for which he will now lay claim. But good for him. Karma will catch him on the flip side. He's not fooling anyone except himself anyway.)

6:10 pm - 09.03.10
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