I am the universe's mistress. No, dear reader, this isn't the post where I talk about being a whore, admit to a list of embarrassing and lusty misadventures. Nothing like that. I have no desire to use this blog as a place to talk about anything remotely relating to those topics.
No, what I mean is that I feel like the person who briefly brings some light, excitement, and joyful chaos into the world, but isn't built to last. No, whatever sparkle of wonder I bring lasts no more than a few weeks, months at the outside, but then fades into memory. It's interesting, it's fun to talk about, but it isn't concrete, it isn't lasting.
I have flings with the universe, adventures. I go off and fight monsters, defeat Republicans, make discoveries, write papers, right wrongs, but then it's over, then I return to big blank space where I live. Of course, the universe takes care of me, like any ashamed husband with the wealth of the universe would. I always have enough provided to live. Every adventures leaves me with the resources to survive, survive in fine style really, in that big blank space until the next fling, the next adventure.
Now, I'm about to start another affair, a steamy, flashy one no doubt, but an affair none the less. Like all affairs, it will feel real while it's going on, it will feel like it could last forever, it will feel like the person I become during it is the truest me possible, but in the end, it will be nothing more than another fling with the universe, another tryst that will end, and from which I'll return to my home void.
Maybe one day I'll stop being an easy adventurer, an experience slut, and I'll find a part of reality to settle down with, a life I can commit to.
You never know what might happen.
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