Curate my life

People treat their lives like an art gallery. They choose each piece, sometimes carefully, sometimes a little haphazardly. But each piece has it's own meaning, it's own thing it brings to the table.

First you start with your personal affects. It's the easiest bit, the bit you have the most control over. What does the cut of that trouser leg say about my life? How does that tshirt speak to who I am? Does that band make me look fat? Does that book say what I want it to say?

Once you've got that conquered you move onto your friends. You lure them in with your books, tshirts and wit. Collect them all. What tv show do you want to be in? Make sure you have the funny friend to highlight your sense of wit. Grab the smart one so your deep discussions can impress those around you. And of course you must have that best friend to let people know you're dependable and friendly.

Now keep going. The girl/boyfriend is important, you've only got one so choose wisely. Keep your standards high so everyone knows you're good enough to have caught and kept the best person in the room.

After that it gets expensive. Choose your house. Are you urban and edgy? Make sure to choose a city and neighbourhood to highlight that. Or are you earthy and rural? Get that natural looking house just on the outskirts of that town up north.

We want each person who enters our life to look around in awe at each of the things we placed there. To take a careful look at all the things we've put there, all the things we've consumed, and be able to see who we are. To understand us. Not just that we like a band, but why we like that band. We're talking through everything we buy or do. So make sure next time you enter someone's gallery you take a good look and try to understand. And maybe, even if they don't mesh with the rest of your space, let them have a small space. It'll show off your generosity, or maybe it will increase your generosity. Either way is nice.

if heaven and hell decide they both are satisfied

There's a Death Cab for Cutie song that's been going through my head. Pause here for a moment. Listen to the song and read the lyrics if you're not familiar.

If you're at all a romantic the song probably puts chills up and down your spine. If however you're a bit of a realist you're probably scoffing at the naivete of the romantics.

I will at times lay claimto both those attributes so the song has me sneering while the hair on my forearms stand on end. It's a bit of a weird sensation.

It's an ode to a love that goes beyond the grave. In the failure of religion he will be the one to save his love when she goes into the night. I can not believe that I will ever be saved by a girl. It's too much pressure to put on a person. We're too messed up to put all our fears and failures onto another person. The excessive expectations have probably been the cause of many broken relationships. You enter thinking that you will be fixed, completely changed by your love. NAd then after the first week, month, year you realize that she too has problems. And then you start to look at other girls, and in the bit of mystery that each person has you read the solutions to all your problems, and so the cycle starts again.

But I want to be saved by that love, which is the root of my discomfort with this song.

So then come God the husband of the church and the answer to my question.

I've never been a fan of the idea of heaven. It's always seemed so boring, but maybe that's because I'm selfish. Now I'm all for karaoke, but I've never fancied an eternity in a choir. It just doesn't sound like that much fun. But holding to your love in the blackest of rooms doesn't actually sound that bad.

so listen again, but think instead of the lover of your soul making this claim, and somehow heaven starts to make sense.