Earlier today, in the middle of my oxycodone high, I was reminded about this one story Megan and I learned of in English IIII called "The Bet". There are certain lessons that stuck with me throughout my life, but this particular one struck home.
All I really remember was the guy making a bet with a banker to stay secluded in a house with no human contact or interaction for 15 years. He could have music or wine or cigarettes and books, but it had to be delivered by him. As the time past, he really explained the very true meaning of life and happiness, saying that it couldn't be bought with any amount of money. Also that the world couldn't give him anything worth living for. So, the guy left that letter on the table. And with 5 hours left of the bet, he climbed out one of the windows and disappeared.
When I was younger, I thought of the guy as an idiot. Now that I'm older and with everything that has been going on lately, I truly know why he left when he did.
A man has to know his worth in life and there's certain happiness and joy that can't be bought.
So, I guess late at night when sleep's no where in sight, the house is quiet and you're the only one woke, I guess that's the perfect opportunity to think. But sometimes thinking is exactly what you don't want to do.
3:19 a.m. - 2011-01-06
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