Simplicity

I've realized now that my whole life I've been completely wrong today. ("I think I've had an apostrophe." "I think you mean an Epiphany" "Lightning has just struck my brain." "Well that must hurt.") Ever since I was about, oh, 16 I've thought that I was an incredibly complicated human being. Not only was I more intelligent then those around me (they just didn't get me) I was morally superior. While all the space monkey's around me drank or smoked themselves into a stupor, I held myself aloof from them. I mingled with them as one mingles with commoners: as a kind of game. Though I could boast that I had no enemies and many friends, I always saw myself as deeper than they were: stronger somehow. Today, it has occurred to me that I am actually an incredibly simple human being. I went grocery shopping (I've been living off bacon for the last week and a half) and almost peed my pants at all the varieties of coffee that the Teet has. Examining all the different mixes and brews I exclaimed, "OH shit!" happily to the dismay of my fellow shoppers. An old lady fixed her steely gaze on me, but what did I care? Not even stopping to beg her pardon (I'm a crazy motherfucker I know) I shoved my face as close to the grinder as was prudent and inhaled the rich aroma. Fiendishly glancing back and forth to make sure that the old lady had turned away and no one else had come near I wiped the grains off the spout and rubbed the brown mix into my hands so the smell would stick with me. I took a full 15 minutes trying to decide what to try, and for a brief, insane moment, I imagined running down the length of containers, filling my bag with a bit of each to create my own monsterous concoction. It would have been too much for me to bear I think, though, so I just went with something Columbian. I figured if they make cocaine this good they must have some pretty damn fine coffee too. Satisfied finally, I moved on to the beer isle. Here there was no confusion - here I had the intense pleasure of knowing exactly what I wanted. Guinness. God I love the Irish. Then some Asti Spumante (for the making of Black Velvets - Guinness and Sparkling Wine, I can't wait). I won't go into the joy I felt at buying meat. Oh meat how I love thee. As I drove home I was aroused, aroused I say!, by the thought that just minutes from then I would be sitting outside, enjoying the crisp fall air, reading Tolstoy, drinking Columbian coffee and smoking some fine Tobacco. What could be better? Is there more to life then this? If there is, count me out. I have found pure happiness. To hell with being deep. Simple pleasures are clearly the best when you allow yourself to enjoy them. I think I will be a Falstaff. If I die when I'm 45 of heart disease or a stroke then so be it. At least I will go out happy. My dog died fat and happy. I think I'll do the same.