The Old Man had seen it coming all along. My friend, make sure you have a healthy definition of what it means to live, he’d say to Jake, ad nauseam, hoping it would’ve caused him to purge the infection.

Jake would respond with naiveté. I do Old Man, trust me, he’d say. I know what it means to live. I know what it means to be free. You don’t have to worry.

But The Old Man hadn’t been as susceptible to Jake’s bullshit as Jake himself had been. Remember, our adversary is one to tell you you’re alive, all the while it shoves a dagger in the heart. Trickery and deception are its means to thrive, he’d say, fingers crossed on the sound of a pop

But Jake had had it all figured out. His head had grown subtly big, a most dangerous form of self-treason. I know Old Man, he’d say, but nothing can hold me down.

I admire your determination. Tell me though, where is it directed? The Old Man would say. Be sure to always check your grounding wires, so that you don’t risk floating away. He’d offer re-footing ad infinitum. But, knowing experience to be the teacher of fools, he realized he’d have to let Destiny—the ultimate archer—take her course. The only thing that worried The Old Man, was whether or not Jake had been well suited enough to go deep into the battle for rest, and come out intact. 

Thanks for stopping by and having a look! I hope you’ve enjoyed this informal extraction of Losing My Mind in America (not yet published). Feel free to leave a comment or question, suggestion or concern, in the polygon below. I look forward to reading your thoughts. 😀 Much love and PEACE IN!

-Tom 

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