Bottles

I guess book 4 really will be short stories. the first bit of the first story that has started to flow.

I didn?t know life could be so simple, really. I thought sometimes I would find myself sitting here alone and I would be afraid.

Of myself, of course not. But the fear is always entertaining that way, isn?t it? The way it manages to confuse a somewhat stable mind about what and who and why and when and how one should go about doing anything.

I guess I get lost sometimes in the simplicity. I figure things should be more complicated, because if they were more complicated, life would be simpler. Let me take a moment to explain.

What I really mean is, well, you know. Take this evening for example. I was wandering along the sidestreets here and I didn?t find one single bottle. I was looking for them, not because I?m a bottle collector or anything, but because I thought it could add to the pile I?ve been accumulating to donate back to those in the area who really need them. You know, those bums who keep surfing through our garbage out back. Anyway, yeah, I tend to collect a few random bottles here and there that I figure find their way back into the local economy somehow. Someone collects my bottles, which I?ve collected from someone else, and maybe they buy a sandwich or something. Maybe it?s a bottle of scotch. Even bums need scotch. Certainly I needed some this evening. You should have seen my pour. It was pretty aloof, the way I dropped that ice in the glass and filled it almost to the top. But that?s for another discussion.

Back to the bottles. So, yeah, we tend to overlook how someone like me can actually make a difference, really simple, like. I get those bottles, and someone cashes ?em in, and presto! We have a little economic growth. It?s like that ?pay it forward? concept I saw in that movie with the kid from the Sixth Sense. Hailey or something is his name, I think. He?s a pretty good actor, for a kid. I imagine I would have had a similar level of talent if my parents had ever given me the time of day. I was always trying to entertain, always at the front of the line, willing to volunteer my efforts for the latest display of idiocy, and no one ever seemed to pick up on that. Their loss, I figure.

So, yeah, simplicity. I help someone else out with a little cash, and maybe they?ll end up, I don?t know, waiting to pull me out of the ditch if I was ever stuck. There are a lot of people stuck in the ditch around here, and maybe that person with the bottles, after they?ve cashed them in, maybe they?ll have a chain with them someday and they?ll be able to pull me out. That kind of simple. That kind of simple rationale that shows how you can make a small amount of effort really pay off in the end. I could be sitting in that ditch for quite a while if I hadn?t have collected those bottles.

Sometimes I get a little frightened by the simplicity, though. That?s the part that holds me back. I always wanted to be in control, in charge, and then I will be sitting here, smoking or something really relaxed like, and then the idea of how it could all be out of my hands kind of takes me away. I get a little nauseous just even thinking about it, sometimes. I will be sitting here and the thought of everything slipping out of my hands will take over my thoughts. The smoke will rest above my head and linger there, kind of like how I will linger around in the pool or what have you, and I won?t be able to move. It?s kind of debilitating, you know, the way it can really take over. I will be sitting there and my legs won?t want to move. My ass will be glued, you know, to the seat. It?s not that I want to be there, stuck. But the fear of not having any control is a powerful thing, I?ve found. It really grips you, and takes control of your life. And I?m not a big fan of losing control.