I want you to love losers. But first, let me explain why. My need for you to love losers arose one day after my final success...
I stood facing my opponent, sword by my side, his idiot sidekick by his. When my victory was sure, a silence ensued – a silence so vast and heavy it filled every pothole on the street.
Bob the Mailman, who was passing by, bent to inspect the holes, shaking his head and rubbing his fingers over the spots where the absence of sound seamlessly met the gravel.
The silence continued in this way, long and stubborn, through the seasons. The leaves fell and were beautiful, scattered randomly across the stillness. A light snow left a cold blanket over the street. In the summertime, the muteness in the holes bubbled and stuck to the soles of our shoes. Those who tried to pass became cemented to the ground, forced to observe the final moments of our struggle.
But then the fickle memory of human truth reenlisted noise. A tire blew out. A man swore in the distance.
My opponent’s lackey, a shaky little man whose eyes turned to liquid under the heat of his insecurities, looked tearfully to his idol.
He said, “You ain’t going to lose, huh boss? You still strong. You strong and winning, ain’t you, boss? You the best swordsman in this part which is every part, ain’t it boss?”
My opponent’s head lowered and sadness filled my heart. I told him not think about it too much, that this happens to the best of us. But it was a lie. I was the best and it never happened to me.
My opponent threw his sword into the deepest, noisiest pothole. He walked off despondently, leaving his stupid sidekick to wither in the loud static of his worst fear -- that of being alone.
About a month later, I received a delicious fruitcake in the mail. I thanked Bob the Mailman for the delivery and shut the door. I couldn’t prove it, but something inside me said it was from the sidekick, the fool lackey with slow waterfalls for eyes. Something in the taste of that cake told me that he was going to be all right.
But then the dove of revelation flew into my window. I suddenly felt I had arrived in a new kingdom of the mind, and things were going to be different. After so many years of success in business and war, it finally caught up to me. I couldn't do it anymore.
I ate only half the cake and threw the rest in the garbage. I climbed the stairs and kissed all of my daughters and sons goodnight. After a short prayer, I flushed my sword and my MBA down the toilet.
Watching them swirl and disappear forever into the underworld of anonymous excrement, I thought to myself: we all lose in the end – some of us just by winning way too much.
Send a pic if you want to win my affection.
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