Rules for Marbles
By james bezerra
When playing marbles, it is best to know the rules as well as to have a basic understanding of physics.
When I say “playing marbles”, what I really mean is “when existing in the world” and when I say that what I really mean, of course, is “When attempting to navigate this too-brief lifespan of ours and accomplish all of the things you will ever accomplish all in the blink of cosmic time between when you are birthed and when your body ceases its standard biological functioning; all the wandering, the learning, the falling in love, the working, the moving from one empty place to another, the packing up over and over of all your vinyl records that you keep promising yourself that you will one day buy a player for, the surviving of illnesses, the making of soup for yourself those times when you have the flu and no one in your life who loves you enough to even heat up canned soup for you, the buying of rugs so large that you have to carry them rolled up over your shoulder like someone carrying a heavy burden or a rescued princess, the having your heart broken again and then mended again and then inevitably broken again, the sitting in a sun beam in a summer park and closing your eyes and seeing that the blackness that usually covers the back of your eyelids has been replaced by a faint but warm yellow, the paying of taxes, the writing of your will, the watching of fireworks from the last hospital window you will ever look out of, it is best to know the rules and to have a basic understanding of physics, or, at the very least, gravity.”
When I say “playing marbles”, what I really mean is “when existing in the world” and when I say that what I really mean, of course, is “When attempting to navigate this too-brief lifespan of ours and accomplish all of the things you will ever accomplish all in the blink of cosmic time between when you are birthed and when your body ceases its standard biological functioning; all the wandering, the learning, the falling in love, the working, the moving from one empty place to another, the packing up over and over of all your vinyl records that you keep promising yourself that you will one day buy a player for, the surviving of illnesses, the making of soup for yourself those times when you have the flu and no one in your life who loves you enough to even heat up canned soup for you, the buying of rugs so large that you have to carry them rolled up over your shoulder like someone carrying a heavy burden or a rescued princess, the having your heart broken again and then mended again and then inevitably broken again, the sitting in a sun beam in a summer park and closing your eyes and seeing that the blackness that usually covers the back of your eyelids has been replaced by a faint but warm yellow, the paying of taxes, the writing of your will, the watching of fireworks from the last hospital window you will ever look out of, it is best to know the rules and to have a basic understanding of physics, or, at the very least, gravity.”
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