Do you ever feel that you set a time in the future where you plan all these amazing things youre gonna do like travel the world and have kids and learn cello and go to a drive in movie and sleep in the snow and read the bible all the way through? And then youre supposed to "find yourself" or realize the purpose?
As far as I can tell as a meek observer, our society is extremely hostile to this. BE BORN CRY LEARN LEARN WORK LEARN LEARN WORK EMOTION EMOTION HORMONE WORK WORK WORK EARN PAY PAY MARRIAGE CHILD WORK EARN PAY WORK EARN PAY WORK EARN OBLIGATORY GOLF/BOOK CLUB WORK EARN PAY WORK EARN PAY SMILE WORK EARN PAY CRY WORK EARN PAY PRIDE WORK EARN PAY SHAME WORK EARN PAY RETIRE EARN PAY EARN PAY HEART DISEASE EARN SLEEP SLEEP DIE. Its a goddamn cycle I tells ya, a cycle of excruciatingly meaningless proportions. How is anything ever going to be intrinsic and artistic and meaningful if everyone begins to pulled into this cycle. This is more important than anything, than Obama than Iraq than terrorism than global warming than cancer. Because what is their purpose and meaning if we dont even know. And Im taking the pleasure of using the royal "we". I havent really talked to anyone about this. But Im just trying to get some meaning from everything and its the hardest Ive ever had to try to do and probably the hardest thing Ill ever do. But hwo can I continue if I dont know where Im going to and why? I'm late, Im early to what? I have a flat tire, but who cares? A hybrid 35 mpg highway mileage is just as good as a 2 mpg hummer if you don't even know who you are.
And I can feel the answer is there, waiting for me to find it. I dont know what it is, an answer sounds dumb. Maybe a certain person or a song or a book or an idea or a blade of grass. I don;t know what it is and Im not even sure ill know what it is if I come across it, but I know it exists, thats for sure, or at least thats as far as my wishful thinking will lend itself. And I cant find it here, stuck in this safe haven of insecurity, fear, and naivety. Sounds like a terrible place, right? My feelings and visions of home are filled with these ideas and concepts and I cant wait to leave. This place may be as good as any other to an unbiased passerby; it has its resources and is generally suitable for most. Too many bad thoughts plague these asphalt streets, down to the sickly winds and up to the weeping drone of traffic. I made this place a hell and I have to leave and never do the same again. Its too late for redemption, my home is gone and I have not yet found my new one. And it is being built. It is being built by abstract concepts. By logic, by beauty, by compassion, and by reason, and by comprehension. They have fled from this place. I cant picture a new home right now, of any kind. I can't imagine getting along with any group or anything right now. Everything is alienating.
Home can exist, comfort can exist. I just have a hard time believing it.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment