No, it can get better. It can always get better. Not through the more and more expensive Danish furniture you are able to buy, or closer and closer you get to the ring on the hockey games because of who you know and how much you can pay. But it can get better through that little telescope pointing in to the universe you are scared to look. That imaginative telescope so strong, so potent, you are just scared that you may see ‘god’ if you get yourself together to look in to it. That is why you keep it in the corner of a room you seldom frequent and you occupy yourself with hockey games and Danish furniture and rare expensive LP’s that makes you feel you are worthwhile.
But if one of these day, god forbid, you grow extremely tired of that little rat race of yours, one day find yourself amazed by the fact that you are not so interested in sitting in the very front row of the biggest game of the year, you may remember that telescope of yours and remember that it has your name on it.
You may reluctantly walk towards that room and reluctantly approach the telescope and place your eye against the end of it, your eyes lids covering your sight, you may hold on a seconds, give out a sigh, and whisper to yourself “Fuck it!.” As you open your eye, as you let the light sink in to it, as you work yourself to recognize what are you seeing, you sink in to an indescribable fascination. Hence, you don’t see god, you don’t see the end of the universe. But all you see is the back of your own fucking neck. Where do you go from there? Where do you go?