Normal
There was once a
man who was normal. He was born to normal parents and a normal family. He had
normal things during his childhood, such as birthdays, vacations, as well as heartbreaks
and troubles throughout his teen years, and he was happy. He faced tyranny from his
parents then, and he had normal thoughts about the world, as all teenagers did, but he was
happy. He grew up more and went on to do many more normal things, like college,
where he studied something normal like business, or engineering, or maybe some
kind of normal degree. He made normal friends, did the normal college kid things, and he was happy.
After college, the man moved some place normal for people
fresh out of school, like a big city. He got a normal, simple apartment, and
got a normal roommate to split the rent (which was, of course, the average rate
for that part of the city). He got himself a normal job, which his normal degree
prepared him for, and he was happy. He worked at that job for a good amount of
years, five or six, whatever’s normal, until he decided he needed a change, so he
packed his bags full of his normal things and moved to a new, normal city,
which he liked, and he was happy.
His new city was full of new wonders and experiences that
any person could normally expect when they move to a new city. He met new
people, and he met normal people, too. He found love, which is normal, and did normal
things with his love, like dinner dates, movies, meeting each other’s parents,
and spending time together with their friends. He eventually got married, after
dating his love for the normal amount of time before one does such a thing. It
was a beautiful ceremony, and it was all perfectly normal, and it made him
happy.
He had children, as is normal, and he had the normal
amount of them. He loved them all, as is normal, and he watched them grow up,
giving them normal things like birthdays and vacations, and helping them
through their heartbreaks and troubles throughout their teen years, which is
normal. He felt like a tyrant to them when they were in high school, and he watched them grow up. He sent them to college, as is normal, and despite how
much he missed them, he was happy. He grew old, and did normal things with
himself and his spouse, until one day she died, in a perfectly normal way.
After he managed her affairs, he found that he, too, was dying.
He sat down one day, very close to the end, and looked
back over his life. From the very beginning up until that very day, he looked
across his entire life, and he saw that he was happy throughout it.
But it was nothing but
normal, and that made him sad.
Peace, my brother, its all we have
For if that shatters
War would ruin us all
Underneath that dam of Hell
We would be swept away
If and when it breaks
We must have peace
Or else all we'll have is
Pieces, my brother, of all we had.
"The worst fear of all is the fear of living." -Theodore Roosevelt
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