“Success”

I’m here today to write about success because I know what it is. Success creeps into the mind of a sweaty, bearded man whose phone just broke. Success lights the eyes of people in Papua New Guinea when the first cool breeze of fall wafts pungently off of the ocean. Success crouches, evaporates, surprises and pounces, lighting a cat’s eyes, while the chosen one tries to remember his PIN number. And you know success, when it finds you. You know it so well that it blinds you and success is dirty and redolent of the noxiously ephemeral disposition of all life on this earth, withering away before your ham-handed, greedy optical ambition. It finds you, like the love of other people, and it lulls you into a narcotic oblivion of its definition.