There was a wedding in the Aegean Sea on a Greek isle in the summer. The billionaire and the supermodel. Of course Kendall was going, no time for airport lines.
"I need to get to Mykonos. First class, of course." A glass of rosé champagne. That fucking boy in line at LAX. He blew a good kiss. She concedes that at least, then shakes it off with a smile. He's nothing.
"Why you cuttin' Kendall?" Because I can silly man. No one's ever talked to me like that. I guess anonymous snideness is a new approach.
*****
No, it's a back and forth, this story. As always. An existentialist and a princess; TV royalty, well-known, recognizable, envied, adored. It's one of those Princess Bride tale of the ages kind of story. Don't let her be boring. Tit for tat with this one. Like life, as always. A reality in the ebbs and flow of two paths crossed only on the most charming of occasions. An airport, across friends and in Spain.
I say existentialist, like I am one, but am I? No, hardly. Maybe I used to be. When I used to give a damn. And I always said I didn't care about anything. In reality, I didn't care about myself, my standing, my worth. I had a purpose, I was happy, and I thought big picture. The injustices of the world pissed me off. Not caring allowed me to care about real issues of civilization, etc. I mean, hell I still care about all that (I was about to write that I didn't), I do. I just don't write it out like I used to is all. Not to Noam Chomsky idealisms anyways. I wish I could. I should. The first thing is obvious.
When did power overcome happiness as the motivator for our species. I guess it's always been like this really. Men have always craved power, unhappy men. Unlike happiness, power is an addiction like any other addiction. Like cigarettes, like cocaine, like sugar. Once you have a little you want more, you need more, and what's more, you'll sacrifice happiness for this temporary satisfaction. And what's lesser and more unfortunate is the amount of viciousness and ferociousness that becomes a part of your life when power enters. Lesser men wilt or are eaten alive.
No, but happiness is the easiest to achieve. Simply give to someone else, share with others. It's a wonder to think, that we are conditioned with something so simple, so logical; a Darwinian property attributed to a means of survival as a species, a cornerstone in all major religions. Give of yourself, help those in need, love one another. And yet we live in a world of perpetual war, of murder and destruction in many places; led by the guises that we all know to be true evil--money, greed, power. But we stand idly by and comment and critique and do nothing at our own peril. Because technology maybe. Someone in the movie last night referred to the Internet as the anti-Christ. I hesitate to disagree with her. I haven't yet. After all it was never said that the devices of the devil did not serve the masses. What it did was pull the curtain over. When you think of life as a collection of time, it is literally taking life away from us. It entertains and it makes us more efficient slaves. That is the nature of technology now, in a connected world.
*****
This is all in my head of course. Me, I'm set at a lovely table just out of the sun by the terrace, inside, at chez Sacha. High ceilings, room for the mind to unfold and expand. Sacha's environment in life has always been a place for me to escape to, to expand and unwind and find peace, I love it. I hope she knows how thankful I am.
We've been smoking hash on a little screw under a cup. I feel proper bohemian now, whatever that means. To be true, left unattended, I could write for hours at this post I believe. Until my hand cramped, and I developed a kink in my shoulder from hunching over the notebook pages, hazy in the hash smoke as the sun creeps through the day in Paris. If Kendall were to go to Mykonos, Sacha would be the perfect anchor to both of us. She'd be believable. She could be anything. She's amazing as far as people and characters go, one of infinite possibilities. Now that I think back, it's fantastically odd; I don't think I've ever taken one picture of her. Out of all the pictures, all the girls, all the worlds. Oh, the dogs of course, maybe dozens of the chihuahuas, George and Mimi and Coat and her Venice apartment, but none her. I wonder why.
Let's say it's because a photo would never do her justice. She worth more in words; a timeless timelessness. If anyone ever tries to take anything away from my life, doubtful as that may be, I hope they see with all clarity the importance of an actor like her in one's life. It's a shame everyone doesn't have a Sacha. Bless you, Matthew.
