Here’s how I dealt with failure for a period, a nice litte rant. Have a read.
Pop culture is fascinated by the legend of the phoenix. This most mythical and wonderous creature, whose sole aim in life is to spontaneously combust into either melody or flames. One might ask why? For hope and new beginnings apparently. If I were one, then I for one am gobsmacked by this philosophy.
Perhaps my sanity is being scrutinized at the moment, but I associate the rise and fall and rise again of the phoenix with colourful, dramatic and eventually pointless Salman Khan films. We’ve seen him come back from the dead, unfortunately every time he does that he takes a fraction of our brain cells with him. Only Sallu bhai may cross the great divide between life and death and bursting into song and dance, much like the phoenix. Thankfully by now I would have lost the Harry Potter fanatics after this diatribe. Get over it guys, J.R.R Tolkien is a superior being. End of.
But then again, I can appreciate the plight of the phoenix as it bursts into flames to spawn into an ugly chick (avian not human). Especially now as I feel similar to that Greek god or demi god whose name I can’t remember who was healed every night only to be nearly fatally torn apart by an eagle every morning. Now, that’s a tough life. Surely the wrath of the Gods, centuries on from those ages cannot hold the same effect. Not with the adoption of new Gods and renouncement of old ones every single day, we’re in an age of holy dystopia.
Somehow, this too shall pass. When it rains, it pours.. and all that jazz.
5 months on, it did. And how. Pain is good. Just ask Rocky Balboa.