Something Which Is Gone And Not Coming Back

There’s an onion ring thread on Twitter  which I cannot stop thinking about. Actual onions. I read it a few months ago and it’s been stalking my mind.

Then today I heard something on YouTube along the ring’s subject line. Basically, it’s the idea of fighting or longing for a time period or relationship which used to be but isn’t exactly the same anymore. In a sense, it’s all about doing everything you can to get a relationship back to a particular state it used to be in.

Both the video and the thread imply that the state is impossible to recreate because of the absence of all the ingredients. In the video, or rather the bit I saw, a couple reconciled several times but couldn’t get what was there back. The guy kept explaining how there was just something missing, and that no matter how hard he or his girlfriend tried they failed to give stella her groove.

The onion rings thread is about a guy who one night eats onion rings and appreciates them as something that he hadn’t valued before. After that he orders them several times at different places, ad infinitum, trying to catch that same particular glory. [Insert Forever’s 1970s fantasy construction here :-D].

The guys both realized a similar problem with what they were doing. The relay bloke had gone through a major change and it fundamentally changed him. That was his perception. So much so that no matter the remedy the situation was lost to the maladies of heartbreak. Are we the sum of our parts? I digress, that’s for the ‘morrow.

The second guy sobered to the fact that he wasn’t sober during his encounter with dismembered onions. Do onions have limbs? Again, for tomorrow. That was a joke. I even smiled. Moving on, dude was drunk and really hungry so anything would have tasted like sticky chicken wings with a side of shisha and malt. It was sufficient at that particular time for its particular purpose but not necessarily needed after that.

The question then is when should you let go, when should you forge and create what you want, and how will you know?

First, my two cents; there must be serious, honest work when managing perceptions of events and the actual impact of events. I believe in setting the rules for one’s self, and having the wisdom to bend those rules when they no longer serve your reality according to your morality or conscious or what-have-you. Do I, as a person, have the constitution to speak to and with myself, about myself, in self reflection of myself and what I have done, as well as have not done, away from everyone else? That means everyone else’s positions, views and realities. That means being accountable to yourself, and only yourself, except when you are accountable to others because you’ve decided to be. Yeah. After such a deliberation is complete am I still able to step away and then be a fair umpire of the Game of Existence. Basically, do you know when you are playing yourself?

Second of all, in those moments of need and emergency when one takes less than what one self-defined station warrants for survival in that minute, does it mean it was okay? Weird sentence construction there but ayyyyyy. Point is, it’s a fuck up if you know you’re going to regret it, especially in the sense when you know you want and need it but ultimately don’t like it under normal circumstances, and you won’t die if you don’t get it. Call me Romeo because that sounded sexual AF. You can’t even blame the onion rings. damn.

Now to answer the question, seeing as I am wise beyond my years. Look, it is very difficult to know when to quit. Passenger made a song about it. See, it difficult. So how about you be very selective about who you keep around in the first place. Test, test, test and test. Check, you shouldn’t have doubts. Or minimal doubts please. It better to wait than to be in that age old Whitney Houston conflict.

Otherwise prepare to be in pain, working to get over that pain, be miserable again at the first sight of hope teetering up the mountain hill of deception and more pain, regret, and all those other words deep poems paint in tongues. You’ll have fun too, but it’ll be like comparing the joy of not ever having had polio to the bitter, up-chuck inducing taste of the vaccination. sharp.


P.S most times you do know, but you don’t know better. So you linger and try and try and try to try until desperation is your only scent.


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