A man died and went to heaven. As he stood in front of St. Peter at the
Pearly Gates, he saw a huge wall of clocks behind him.
He asked, "What are all those clocks?"
St. Peter answered, "Those are Lie-Clocks. Everyone on Earth has a
Lie-Clock. Every time you lie the hands on your clock will move."
"Oh," said the man, "whose clock is that?"
"That's Mother Teresa's. The hands have never moved, indicating that she
never told a lie."
"Incredible," said the man. "And whose clock is that one?"
St. Peter responded, "That's Abraham Lincoln's clock. The hands have moved
twice, telling us that Abe told only two lies in his entire life."
"Where's George W. Bush's clock?" asked the man.
"Bush's clock is in Jesus' office. He's using it as a ceiling fan."
I used to pride myself on my ability to blend into any social situation, whether I be trussed up in an evening gown, sipping fine wine and extoling theories on the latest political and cultural developments or watching a baseball game, with beer, a hot dog and cigarette in hand. A lady in the parlor and a whore in bed, so to speak.
However, being an artist who joined the post-college "real world", I find my two most consuming identities becoming only more so, yet they are completely divergent and growing ever further apart. In me, there is the burgeoning young corporate executive, moving up the ladder, wearing fine conservative clothes and looking every bit the picture of success. But then there is the bohemian artist in me (a part of my identity I hold dearly), who is interested in almost everything, reads voraciously, can talk politics and art and rages against the system with the fervent zeal of an idealistic liberal, wears cargo pants, tank top and a beanie, and drinks fair trade coffee. The two identities are diametrically opposed, and causing me much cognitive dissonance. My fierce independence is also warring with the romantic in me (who misses her long-distance boyfriend with an all-consuming, can't breathe kind of an ache--a feeling that is entirely new). My firm sense of self is shifting and I can't find solid ground.
I can't give up either part of me, but both identities are warring ever more violently in me and I fear the collateral damage (which includes my security and self-esteem). How do I reconcile my two selves?
To My Imagination:
I've been missing you for so long now, where did you go? I have so many fond memories of us together seeking far off new places, enjoying sunflowers in second grade, playing in the field behind my house. Those were such happy times. I was never lonely because I always had you.
Albeit, I did get mad at you sometimes because you would distract me from things I had to do, like learning math or paying attention to the person talking to me...but I didn't really mean it. You've always been there to keep me from getting too literal or to save me from a bad situation, like doing dishes.
But now, I've been searching for you and you seem to be hiding. I catch glimpses of you as I walk down the street, or in the mall, or sometimes when I'm driving, but then I think I must be wrong. I really needed you today at the office, and last week while I lay in bed alone. But you weren't there. You've left me behind, dry and waiting, like an 80-year-old virgin, with nothing but my hands and memories to comfort me.
Anyways, I miss you. Please come back and I promise I wont neglect you. I need you; I'm just not any fun without you.
Love
Me