Destruction and Design

Today's pre-bedtime homework: I just spent the evening wiping down every square inch of four dozen chairs and a dozen tables and benches, (what weird units, you may say), vacuuming and mopping a small space of a few hundred square feet. This work comes rather effortlessly to me - some sixteen years ago, I learnt while cleaning my family home that such jobs encourage a simple space of mind. Thereafter the first job I applied for in college was as a stair-sweeper, at the dormitory building where I lived. I always thought that it would be good discipline, to ground my otherwise highfalutin interests. And there she was, with her perfect brows, the perfect CV, she rarely smiled... a magic bullet, a poisoned soul, an ivory woman in size two soles. And it was clear from the get go that we had different fears, and these would be the defining elements of our lives, as we are all animals built for purpose. And the purpose of fear is to integrate life. And knowing full well our limitations, we coalesced into temporary affiliation. She would gun for a long-term opportunity, at any current price, and I would gun for long-term opportunities at the lowest current price, and it was clear, always clear that our portfolios would diverge. And we would not be contained. And knowing full well what the decision trees would be, I walked each path to its probable conclusion. Sixteen years ago, to the day. Or was it yesterday. It doesn't matter I suppose. I'd do it again, because I'd want to bump into her on the street in another thirty years, and be able to say, I reached out. I tried - it didn't matter that I knew it wouldn't work. I challenged fate.

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