Spartan

Here comes the No-Homers

Where are you? Don’t tell me. I know where you are. You are where I am. For shit’s sake, you’re human, so am I.

Where else would we be? If not at the T junction of “I still want more”. Tell me I am lieing. Shit! You know I am not.

No one has ever gotten that wrong. The ever evolving insatiability of the sapiens scares the shit of the non-existing erectus that faded via willful extermination.

The description of the present you, the present me, the present “all of us” is the “never satisfied we”.

Every junction we reach is never the home we want. Once we get that Buckingham, next is the exploration to the lost city of Solomon until them grey hairs stop us halfway through the red sea.

Listen! I did worse. I woke one morning contented, proverbially speaking. That was the crux of human existence, the point of “no more” , the point of “I’m satisfied, Shit, I want no more”, the point of “I’m done, they can get it all, I am just gonna stay here”, the point of “Ask anything you want and all I wil still ask God is nothing”.

Like Kanye, I spent that opportunity on another necklace: a smart one with a digital pendant.

I threw all that morning away. I could not live like that. I realize the reason I want more is not for the more , it is for the grit, the fun. You know that feeling apes get when they beat their chest with a fist of “I did it, hail me!”. Yeah, I can’t give up that feel. And the fun of being a gladiator fighting for more badges in a stadium where all the audience wants is my BLOOD. Their ancestors waited for it, they never saw it. Their children is dieing with suspense, they won’t see my blood, no flail , no spiked chariot can pierce these thick skins. But even when you show the gladiator his home: “Hey , Spartan, you’re free, head home. Here is not home” . Truth is “Spartan wants no home, all Spartan wants is the rush of his blood about to spill but never spilling each time” . Spain can’t give him that, damn it, Peloponnese is too boring. His home is the arena, he will rather die with a flail to his intestines. He wants to die with a view of his andrenaline spilling . He’s got to see that thing that made life worth living for him. Dieing in your dreams is just so boring. What is the point of living if we die gently. That is spartan’s idea of living, not mine.

What is this guy talkin about?

It is never just about the wealth, it is about the feel of conquering each time.

I hate threats.

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