Darwin for the Win

Don’t know if this will make much sense but I had to get it out.  There’s an exhibit here in Paris on Darwin that I haven’t gotten a chance to go see, but the posters are ubiquitous.  Even in modern times, survival of the fittest is relevant, if not more important than ever before.  Consider all the things we have to help us in any endeavor; getting to the top, staying healthy, choosing a mate.  Then consider the things that exist that deteriorate that progress.  Consider divorce rate and how easy it is to become dissatisfied or bored and find solace in novelty.  How easily you can fail at a relationship–no matter what kind–if you stop trying.  Stop calling, stop talking, stop bringing things to the table, stop sharing.  The world demands that you stay on your toes.  Nothing is guaranteed, not even something you have in the palm of your hand.  These are days where even that hand of yours, the one that’s holding on tight as it can to something you love, can either turn into a fist that not only suffocates the held object but also drives others away.  That same hand can also extend, manipulate, create, use instruments, shake hands, hold another’s, geez.  We can do so much, as human beings.  We just have to make sure we put in the effort every waking day to shape our lives into what we want.   We can lose or win at the blink of an eye.  Gotta keep those eyes open.

Then again maybe I’m spreading myself too thin.  Not sure how this sits on the scale of the fittest to survive.  I want to be a part of so much, it’s hard to choose what I want to concentrate on.  So I just try to do too many things at once.  We’re talking triple threat of sorts.  (Although why limit yourself to three?  And what constitutes a “threat” so to speak?  There are countless amazing things about the most vivacious people.)  My mind easily drifts and concentration doesn’t come easily to me unless I’m under pressure.  To survive, what do I do?  Do I focus completely on one aspect or do I try to keep my foot, both feet, my arms, my head in several doors?  It’s that damn jack of all trades and master of none conundrum again.  Forget that.  I want to be a master at all of it.  Not because I desire the title of being a master.  It’s the feeling of knowing that I like something so much that I’ll put that much time, sweat and tears into it.  That I’ve valued it and it’s worthy to me.  Possible?  We shall see.

I feel I am getting way too deep, so I’m going to save the rest for my journal, grab some McDonald’s and talk about the dumbest shit with my friends at Mont Martre.  Soon I’ll be home in Texas!  Yeah!!


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