Pt. 13, EVEN PLAYING
FIELD
when your wife finally admitted to herself that she had been
recklessly flirting with one of the local baristas (who clearly had highly
sexualized eyes for her) by asking your permission to be allowed to engage in
an extramarital affair with the girl behind the counter at the coffee shop with
the dangerously crazy ice blue-green eyes, you had to chuckle to yourself.
after spending the entire three years of your marriage to her being constantly
damned as an adulterer despite there having been little instance nor evidence
to support that charge legitimately, this seemed like a devious window to
change all that. she had never seen the humor in your satirical postings to the
Craigslist casual encounters personals advertizing encounters which could
include anything from naked bicycle rides through the Quarter with near toxic
daiquiris, face-paint & paper streamers to steamy nights duct taped to
vinyl couches on second story balconies being flogged with a rubber chicken.
sure in your single years hook-ups had been achieved via these posts, but the
real fun was in reading the replies of sexually curious/ adventurous/ needy New
Orleans women (and men, despite having been in the M4W section), many times
with rather startling jpeg.’s as attachments. to you, this seemed like an
excellent opportunity to let your wife finally relieve you of this frustrating
nonsense by giving her the chance to “hang herself” through acts of her own
volition. you also reasoned that if she became an actual adulterer that would
not only self-destruct her insane accusations, but she might even share the
booty - given patience, time, prodding and a few mixed drinks. But the
important thing here was to get her to see her own double standards that you
seemed trapped by; you were guilty of an act you had never done which was the
same act that she was hoping to do, as if adultery would not be an issue so
long she was the one doing it
.
this psychotic line of reasoning was typical of your wife.
you had always pictured the inside of her mind to be synonymous with an puppy
who had been randomly kicked with vengeful impunity over its short life and who
was currently dosed “to the gills” on PCP, then thrown into a lamp-less
shipping container where the floor was strewn with shards of glass that
twinkled like diamonds in the light of the fire that flickered from its oil
soaked and burning tail… no matter how furious her wild and groundless
accusations and condemnations made you, at the end of the day all you ever felt
was a deep and aching sympathy, for she neither had any awareness nor control
over her doomed and self-contradictory psychological situation.
if
marriage and the subsequent attempt to share one’s life, taught you one thing,
its that we’re all gonna’ burn.
trying to believe in both free will and causality simultaneously (in the
case of your wife and, sadly, what appeared to be the vast majority of everyone
else) forces one into situations where there have to be separate rules for
individual cases as well as that the application of those rules will be
piecemeal and corrupted. thus, any type of actual system is impossible and the
only thing left is madness. and so at the end of the day you have always had to
amend your logical and liberating admiration to the philosophical theory of strict
determinism in order to operate to the most minimal degree within society. for
despite your best and most eloquent inquiries as to how another can base
everything in their world on the chain of cause and effect, yet reserve this
one little area referred to as free will as exempt from having a cause and thus
implying that within each human psyche there exists a line in the sand akin to
an event horizon or cosmic singularity where past that given (yet indefinable)
point the (near) universally accepted concept of causality no longer applies,
the standard response from others is either a retreat to an equally absurd and
unknowable defense such as the existence of a higher power as an explanation or
just a tirade of “you’re wrong, you’re wrong, no! no! no! stop talking like a
crazy person!” which, to you, begged the next most obvious question, “now
explain to me how i’m the crazy one here and you’re not?”
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