Anything Goes : Reflections by Philip David Lee

When I was a child, I used to cover myself in my blanket, rub the blanket across my head and watch the static electricity leap from my fingers when I touched the area. It was bright and looked like lightning. It reminded me of lightning bolts Zeus might throw.

Decades later, last night, I tried it again. The results were disappointing. The static was very weak barely creating any kind of illumination at all. I thought "This is an extremely saddening metaphor."

My younger self made me feel like a dynamo, a generator of power emitting light and strength, ready to take on a new day and take in all the knowledge that I could. 

Now, I'm just a spent battery that needs special requirements for disposal. The thin metal bridge that emanated such blinding brilliance has been reduced to a tired, charred, brittle filament that could snap at any moment letting off one final burst of what was and then becoming a quick fade into the darkness that ultimately awaits us all. My power is waning. My spirit is barely a pulse that is fighting valiantly to keep my withering mind active for one last thought of enlightenment.

Of course, maybe... I just need a different blanket....