After reading Kafka’s “The Metamorphosis” last night I thought of the picture above. How sad, I thought, for a man to just be used up like that.
All but forgotten by the people that knew him, his only legacy his family; who prospered by his life, learned to survive as he declined and were so independent by the time of his death that they barely took notice as his remains were swept out by the charwoman.
These people who he fed and clothed had so easily left him to suffer alone and die unloved, starved only for the simple joy of hearing his sister play the violin. They never once considered what it must have been like for him, even before the metamorphosis, to always be working, never getting to enjoy the family he sustained simply because it was his duty.
Then I realized, this is what happens.
Do you ever feel just completely and utterly alone? Like missing a step on the stairs, your mind is expecting the solid landing of your sole on the ground, but it’s only air, and you’re surprised when you look and see there’s nothing there. Like being tired and not having a chair or being happy and having no one to share, and you just keep moving on and smile to yourself instead. Even though being alone isn’t always lonely and being lonely doesn’t always mean you’re alone, sometimes it’s nice to have that someone there who also knows what it feels like to miss a stair.
Today is one of those cold precipitous days that makes you want to roll over, pull the covers up, and go back to sleep. So that’s exactly what I did. And it was everything I thought it would be. I should have become my own boss years ago, just think of all the great sleep I would have gotten. The only thing better than sleeping in today was going to work. I must be the luckiest gal in the world to be surrounded by stacks of records, listening to great albums all day. I am like Julie Andrews spinning around in hills full of music, lol. Now, if only my luck will hold out…