The right time and the right place, two vague concepts which I was never properly introduced to, as opposed to the more familiar area of the wrong timing and the wrong spacial placement. I guess one descends from the former to either a. Apologizing to one’s self, b. Resenting one’s self or c. Embracing the idea that some are destined for greatness and some are meant to wallow the missed chances. Honestly speaking, yours true is wired to miraculously exercise the alphabet of options in the same exact moment in time. Kindly suppress your bafflement.
Applying the Palahniuk methodology in his masterpiece ‘Invisible Monsters’, jump with me to a cheap hotel in the desert during one of Egypt’s fiery summers. There she was in her absolutely stunning lack of glamour and social experience and there I was, all in hidden awe, wearing the mask of benign social interaction, asking questions I have the answers to, throwing jokes I profoundly find tasteless and avoiding the want and/or need to mentally and physically ravage the core of her being, or..well, her lady parts. In short, even though I was at the theoretical ‘right time and place’, I failed to recognize it and passed the opportunity for awaited bliss, or…well, I was a lady part.
Jump back to the present, after events of certain social significance, I am afflicted by sudden melancholic nostalgia but guess what?…No..No..You have to guess! The wrong time and the wrong place! Ding Ding Ding..We have a winner..or a loser..doesn’t matter.
To put a simple ending to a rather elaborate beginning, I could share this with no one specific, henceforth I write. There is no happy ending, there are obviously no lady parts but there seems to be an overabundance of mendacious circumlocution.