Last Will and Testament

Last Will and Testament
On the occasion that I keel over and die, these are my wishes.
1. All furniture goes to Suzan Moriarty.
2. All books except children’s books go to Taylor Moriarty.
3. All toys, comics, children’s books go to Kevin and Ash Gorall.
4. Paintings are split between Aaron and Sam Gorall.
5. All pictures except those with Suzan Moriarty in them or trips we had together go to my mother. Those travel pictures Suzan Moriarty and I participated in and/or those with Suzan Moriarty in them belong to Suzan Moriarty.
6. All theatre materials go to Suzan Moriarty.
7. The hard drive with documentaries goes to Kevin and Ash Gorall. The others go to Suzan Moriarty.
8. All other items belonging to me can be divvied up as Suzan Moriarty best sees fit.

First Sight

It is said that we are what we do. The assumption implicit in this statement is that we are what we appear. Certainly, this could be true if not for the fact that it most often is not. If so, none of us would be unhappy with where we work. The reality is closer to this: We are what we wish to portray ourselves as. Even that isn't entirely true. We are less than we wish to protray ourselves.

Suppose I'm on vacation and I spot a young lady whom I'm attracted to and I notice that a similar state of mind has infected her. When I see her perhaps later in the day or that night and she's poolside sipping on the latest alcoholic invasion, she is apt to look on me with admiration, as a broad smile and sparkling eyes would indicate. I might likewise great her appearance in like fashion. In the courting phase, whether this is a one night stand, or whether there are hopes for more long term possibilities, the process is the same. She sizes me up and decided whether or not I fit the image she has created in her mind as someone she can be attracted to. During this phase, I am likely to try to impress her with my humor or intellect, of some interesting form of insight. As I stand out, her decision to direct her attention to me is confirmed.

The problem is; outside of courtship, the charade will eventually decay. The walls will not be of stone, but rather of paper colored so, much as a backdrop for a play. We all know this, but our sense of hope and eternal optimism blinds us. Eventually, I am a compromise and will ever be weighed on a scale to determine whether I provide more felicity or disgust.