“Hell is other people.”-Sartre
If I were to face (no pun intended) a beheading I would smile; forever securing a last laugh in the lungs of my executioners. If John the Baptist had captured a smile and brandished it on a platter to Salome’s anxious gaze would she have ordered the lips severed from his face? Laugh lines sealed in concrete taunting her selfish endeavor.
For awhile I’ve invested in human relationships, as we all have. Through this investment I’ve gone emotionally bankrupt, as I am certain we all have. Though I’ve laughed more than I’ve whimpered it’s the whimpers that have remained tickling my throat during sitcoms, or goodbyes. Yet I continue with different personalities desirous that one will identify as a cornerstone. I think it’s time that I considered the notion that some of us are destined for solitude. By solitude I don’t mean confinement, scratching tallies on the walls to measure deceased moments. I mean solitude defined as a pure result, an outcome reached after all consequences are confirmed and each choice has been made. Solitude assures freedom. It passes no judgments and guarantees simple results, a simple existence. I could lie and decree that life has no meaning without human relationships (what’s that old statement? “It’s not where you are, but who you’re with that matters”) but life has no meaning, no point. Life is the end result of random occurrence and as randomly as we were born just as randomly we will perish. Forgotten. I’d rather people recollect my corpse with a smile, alone, inside a coffin making friends with the earthworms consuming my organs. Unlike the humans who will have buried me I will know what they want and for that I’ll be grateful.