Normal

One of my oldest friends, someone I’ve shared a great many good times with over the past fifteen years has decided to take a stab at being normal. I don’t blame him for he has a son and parenting is when the responsibilities of life overwhelm everything. What we want, the parents, the adults, is forever subordinated to the well being of our offspring. So he’s moved in with his baby mama, who he has never gotten along with, and it giving conventionality the old college try.

The problem, from my perspective, is that this is generally how I lose friends. Not because we fight or anything but because any life that is fundamentally normal excludes me. I am not compatible with normal. I represent, I know, a wild chaos, a Dionysian force, a pull toward hedonism and devil-may-care excesses.

But he’ll be back. They always come back.

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About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet
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