Over the years, I have accumulated a great pile of things. Cars, animals, books. It is time to forget them all and find someplace new.
This weekend, as I meditatively, and masterfully, played an amusing word game on Facebook, the spirit of the microcosm welled up inside me, and I realised, I am wasting away. I thought of calling one of my girlfriends, but said to myself, To hell with it, forget them; they are all dirty leaches in love only with my pretensions and liquor. Come, let us channel this vital force in other ways. Let us go outside for a run.
Like a cat I prowl though the cool crisp air not caring the slightest about my wardrobe or the grey in my hair. It is cold but my body keeps me warm--and Society is colder. Here am I, a solitary animal, healthy and happy, rugged as a billy goat, reacting nerves with cocked assurance in control of a graceful steady stride.
Afterward, I tilted back the chair in my favourite car and fell asleep. When I awoke, I felt another spirit--one more gentle than the one before--whisper in my ear. It told me Dandyism is dead; it is time to stop pretending. You look idiotic in those clothes.
Now is the hard part: I must get rid of this heaping pile of Materialism. I shall sell what I can and leave the rest behind, or use it for practical jokes. I renounce all that is here, but shall keep my roguish soul.
Monday, February 2, 2009
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3 comments:
Where shall you go then, Dear Nigel, to lock away your body and soul? Will it be another building with four bare walls or the damp, deep forest; the ones with the fallen, deciduous tree branches and crisp leaves that you trample underfoot and beckon without fear, your maudlin obtrusion? What will happen to the succinct blogs of the reclusive popinjay that I've come to admire? Will you truly abandon this space here and leave a fellow sojourner all alone to fend for herself? How can abandonment abandon itself? I, for one, am not a dirty leach and I quite like your creative designs.
So where will you go to perish, Dear Nigel?
"Dandyism is dead"? Such words coming from the truest dandy of all, I cannot believe it! For God's sake, in the true spirit of dandyism, sell all your belongings and buy newer, and bigger ones.
-An admirer.
May I suggest, my dear sir, that you subscribe to the British School of Psychology? That is where you pour yourself a stiff Scotch and PULL Yourself Together!
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