What if you could exchange your life, like you can exchange a faulty pair of pants?
What if there was a place in the back alleyways of a little known industrial state where you could exchange lives. Not even with a receipt, just the inkling for something different. What if you navigated your way there under the cover of darkness, life stuffed into a nondescript bag and knocked on a door lit by a purple globe.
You would peer on tentatively as the door swung opened and you were met with the old peculiar couple that ran this setup. They wouldn’t give you their names, just gaze at you expectantly and almost impatiently you sense, awaiting your request. They’re obviously exceptionally busy, life-exchange is more of a booming industry than you imagined.
“Uh… uh… I want something that fits me better. Please. Sir. Thank-you” is the stammer that falls from that suddenly gaping maw you call a mouth. You offer the bag you stowed your life in for the trip to the woman. She has a look at what you’ve brought, sighs and then bustles away soundlessly into the dark of the warehouse. Her husband observes you under the purple light in silence. Don’t these people speak?
Making conversation is apparently not an option, so your mind wanders in the quiet. Naturally you ponder the life you’re about to exchange. The things you’ve done, seen and felt. The people attached to it, and the work you’ve done. Your lovers, friends and miscellaneous. Your secrets and truths. Maybe it’s a little battered but hopefully they’ll have something more suitable. Something more… just something more.
Your thoughts are cut off as the woman returns from the darkness to the doorway. She’s not carrying anything other than the bag you gave her, and you wonder if you’ll have to go inside the warehouse to another room to be fitted with your new life.
“Sorry love. We’re fresh out. Everyone’s wantin’ a new life these days. You’ll just have to make do.” She hands you back your life, still stuffed in the bag and closes the door.
What if this was it lovers? Does it fit? Is it the right colour for your complexion? Are there holes in your life? Could you be happy with what you have now? Or would you need to make changes?
Because as it happens… this life here is what you have to work with, and there is no magical fix. There is no secret warehouse of life-exchange, though there is definitely space to make change in your life. You have the freedom to make this life fit you perfectly if you want.
What could you do today to start crafting that fit? Or are you already there?
Yours in Nonsense,
Sir Flamingo xo
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