They Sicken of The Calm

Today is the feast day of Dorothy Parker.

I fucking love Dorothy Parker.

There is something to say about her poem Fair Weather, because we do get bored, don’t we? Whether soldiers who’ve returned from war, or working women becoming housewives, there are many who get bored when life becomes calm, when all of the chaos dies down and it’s nothing but a slow hum, barely recognizable.

We know that we should want that calm, those still waters. We ask ourselves, “this is what we worked for, can’t you just enjoy, be happy?” Still, we can’t help but miss the turmoil, we’ve known the storm, we’ve felt the turbulence and it became our fetish, arousing us with each new rock of the boat.

Storm chasers, that’s what we are, always trying to get in front of the storm, we want to look it in the eyes as we face off against an enemy that we secretly want to embrace.

This level reach of blue is not my sea;
Here are sweet waters, pretty in the sun,
Whose quiet ripples meet obediently
A marked and measured line, one after one.
This is no sea of mine. that humbly laves
Untroubled sands, spread glittering and warm.
I have a need of wilder, crueler waves;
They sicken of the calm, who knew the storm.

So let a love beat over me again,
Loosing its million desperate breakers wide;
Sudden and terrible to rise and wane;
Roaring the heavens apart; a reckless tide
That casts upon the heart, as it recedes,
Splinters and spars and dripping, salty weeds.


although this can be healthy when we use our heads and go after adventures that aren’t fucked up.

it can also be devastating, men and women getting involved over and over again with abusive partners, unable to consider a healthy relationship, because that would be boring.

or the recidivism rate of prisons, because life outside of crime is boring.

We might never get too far away from the storm, we might just sit in the eye of it, waiting to feel the first strand of hair, lift.

But we can attempt…we can try with all that we are, to learn how to get as much excitement from shuffleboard as from swimming with the sharks.

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