The Blue Note

 I feel defeated today. I felt a sense of dread as I pulled onto the highway on my morning commute to work. The traffic was at a standstill and inched at paltry 5 miles an hour when space let up. I thought about all of the things that capitalism has forced upon (us) as a society and the cruelest is having to wait in traffic to make it in time to a job that could replace you in the blink of an eye. Then I start to think of the things that capitalism does to (us) in ways that make us think that getting up, going to work, and making money, is somehow productive and vital to ensuring that our societies (maybe even our species) survive. It's very frustrating and cruel. I am not a person misled by conspiracy thinking, but sometimes it feels like the cosmos (or whatever it is out there) is working against (us) in order to make sure that (we) know our place in this whatever it is. I mean, if this is some kind of VR thing and some idiot decided to play the hard version of (my life), that entity should really consider finding cheat codes to get more out of me, or just place me in the junk file as damaged. 

I am a bit angry as well. 

I cannot change how people perceive me. I don't know if being nice and being cordial are things that I can guarantee, without knowing that there is a small part of me that will try my best to be all that I can be to/for anyone...but I still have to come first. I don't know how to let go of the things that should have killed me by now. I think that I have the capacity to be understanding and loving, but not gullible and blind. I know that I am not perfect and I make no excuses for my imperfections. It isn't that I need to be outwardly accomplished, even though I try to maintain the image that I am fine and everything is okay within my world. It's a hard illusion to create and portray when all I want to do is seclude myself from the rest of the world and kill time with absolute fucking boredom. I also want companionship and family, but the things that I dreamed of yesterday are really starting to fade away as I lose more of my patience and I grow another year older.

The possibility of making friends, or new lovers, after a certain age, become harder and harder. I had things to offer people. I had gifts to share. Honestly, it seemed like everything that I was willing to share with others, was quite disposable when it all came down. I think about friends that have passed on. I feel bad for not engaging with them more when they were alive. It must have been lonely to know that (their) life held on to some notion that IF...whatever that IF was... IF X then Y would have inevitably happened. Except that it never did and IF became a life sentence. I should have done more as a friend or a lover. Maybe my IF wouldn't be strangling me as much as it is these days. 

I worry that the life that I want, the greener pastures, is really just something that I made up in my head. The feelings that I get when I think about the things that bring me joy are really insane daydreams. I imagine, as I am writing this or that, the life spilling from me, while the soundtrack of my life plays on in the background. It's a weird little art project that filters through my mind as I am driving, or sitting in one place, or stuck in situation where there is no good outcome. Whatever the case may be, my head is always playing out this story in which IF there were someone reading about my life or the experiences that I have had, it would almost be felt and experienced through someone else's viewpoint. It's a poetic kind of death and realization, thinking. I can find the moments to reflect on how a song can make me feel as I am driving through the Arizona desert. Even as I sit in a cold office and meander thoughts of "how great it would be to finally have all the pieces come together" all I can really focus on is how to keep my hands from getting colder as the air conditioner kicks on. I dread the thought of running to my car, just to spend another thirty to forty-five minutes stuck behind rubberneckers trying to get a view of the nothing on the side of the road. It is too cold for me head to understand that the background noises, people, and scenery are really only their to confuse me.

Maybe I will get what is coming to me. Maybe I need to man up and stop being such a bitch. I know that the cosmos are not concerned with me or anybody else, so I should just do what I need to do or say fuck it and get by. Either way, it's simpler to approach it with a bit of clarity....IF that will ever come. It wouldn't hurt if it came with some money and free time.