Primal Scream

Scream. That's the only thing to do when nothing in this topsy-turvy screwed up globe that we live on makes sense. Inflate your lungs till they are bursting, wait for a heartbeat or two and let loose. And I do mean LET LOOSE. Make birds skitter off in alarm from their perches. Make little children cry in terror. Make grown men and women shake and swoon as your ululation jangles their fragile nerves. Make no bones about the fact that you are bloody pissed off with the state of affairs and are not going to take it lying down any more.

Why do this, you ask. Why purposely call attention to your insignificant inconsequential existence and invite ridicule, you reason. Wouldn't it be wiser to write a strongly worded anonymous letter of protest highlighting the very same concerns? It'd be definitely be more discreet, yet allow you great artistic and literary freedom. Why charge at something like a mad bull when you can instead be a flitting gazelle?...Well gazelles certainly have their strong points, but invulnerability to vicious eviscerations by blood-thirsty carnivores is certainly not one of them. The latter in fact seem to delight in crunching on the former's bones and try to do so at the earliest opportunity. A mad bull however is a different proposition altogether. You don't know why it is mad, who made it mad and what it will do once it is mad. It might trample you under its hooves, gore you with its big pointy horns or very well throw a tight wad of slimy smelly cud right at your face. All carefully thought-out strategems seem flimsy once you spot the fire coming out of its nostrils and the sheer craziness in its eyes. It is at this point that most carnivores stop and think about where life is leading them and whether they really want to go there, after which they pounce on the nearest gazelle.

So this convoluted piece of Serengeti history that I am brandishing around as a sparkling insight from the heavens has in short one moot point to make - stand apart. Dare, innovate and create and go absolutely bonkers by the end of it. People should remember you long after you passed by and messed with their heads. Ensure that at each milestone of your life there are some bystanders who take pride in remembering that they were there at those fundamental stages in your life. And I do say pride in the strictest and truest sense of the word. Malarkey just for the sake of making an impact is just that - malarkey. You don't want people remembering you for the wrong reasons. Next thing you know they start weeding out the black sheep, and you definitely wouldn't want to be there then.

I haven't said much once you see beyond all this verbiage. Nothing revolutionary or earth-shattering in the slightest. It's just a long-winded mnemonic, a note to self to flare and flare brightly before the wick runs out. No more getting stuck to routines and schedules and the warm cozy confines of domestication. Time to cut loose and raise some hell. Should be fun.