Truant Memphis
Pages From The Filling Station

Winter Is Coming, Damn It.

10/12/2018

 
I’m weary. Here I sit with this privileged life, having only suffered minor - and often self-inflicted - hardship, yet I’m exhausted. Unfortunately, my exhaustion is not from the type of positive effort I wish I consistently put forth towards the betterment of my soul and this world. Rather, it is the type of fatigue that comes from overthinking instead of doing. From lamenting instead of fighting. From suppressing instead of coping. An underwhelming sense of dread.

The world has suddenly developed a dramatic love affair with fascism, authoritarianism, and racism. Let’s call the combined three-headed monster of negative ismry, suckism. I know, suckism has been brewing for a while, but the movement’s most recent leap into the mainstream has been a dramatic eye opening for all of us who were piddling along the timeline of our mundane existence thinking things were generally moving in the right direction, however slow that movement may have been. We’ve now come to discover what we can only hope is the last spastic gasp of this utterly vile aspect of human horseshit.

Of course, it really doesn’t matter if suckism gets eradicated (which it won’t), now that we’ve discovered our destruction of the planet is accelerating at an alarming rate of...acceleration (that’s right). It’s possible that if my poor behavior doesn’t kill me first, I may yet live to see humanity’s destruction on a global scale. Despondency invites itself to my home for dinner before the show. I tried hiding in the basement, but I left the front door unlocked.

I don’t want to grow old and watch the world die alone. I could still have a family. A partner. Children. Grandchildren if I’m lucky. Then I realize I’m not certain I could live with the guilt of bringing them into this world. I’m not certain I’m happy I was brought into this world. I mean, each and every one of us is brought into this world against our own will, then told to sink or swim. Some of us get thrown life preservers and some get chained to rocks, but none of us asked for this horseshit. Anyone who loves their life is basically suffering from Stockholm syndrome. How could I do that to someone else, simply hoping they are way happier to be alive than I am?

Oh well. Maybe I will get to witness society crumble as mother nature ravages humanity. Maybe I will get to take sides in the last great battle between human good and evil. If shit hits the fan soon enough, I suppose I could get into that. We would fight for the sake of goodness and hope in the face of impossible odds. We would have children in the midst of all this madness, as propagation of the species would once again be paramount. We would win the war, pay homage to mother nature and play by her rules, raise our children to understand the madness that led to this and endow them with the knowledge and wisdom not to make the same mistakes we made.

But I’m already so tired. So tired, and there’s work on Monday. There’s bills to pay. We’ll just have to figure all this other shit out later, when we have more time. When we’re not exhausted. Not so damn weary.

I probably just need some exercise.

0 Comments



Leave a Reply.

    Disclaimer:

    All content is provided with reckless abandon and subject to your scrutiny. That's the deal.

    Archives

    June 2026
    June 2025
    May 2025
    December 2024
    March 2024
    November 2023
    July 2023
    May 2023
    January 2023
    July 2022
    June 2022
    January 2022
    December 2021
    November 2021
    August 2021
    July 2021
    May 2021
    April 2021
    February 2021
    November 2020
    July 2020
    May 2020
    April 2020
    March 2020
    February 2020
    January 2020
    December 2019
    October 2019
    September 2019
    August 2019
    July 2019
    June 2019
    May 2019
    April 2019
    March 2019
    December 2018
    November 2018
    October 2018
    September 2018
    August 2018
    July 2018
    June 2018
    May 2018
    January 2018
    July 2017
    November 2016
    March 2016
    October 2015
    June 2015
    March 2015
    December 2014
    October 2014
    September 2013
    March 2011
    December 2010

    Categories

    All
    "Old Angsty Poetry And Prose"
    Why Conspiracy Theories Are Stup

    RSS Feed

Proudly powered by Weebly
  • Home
  • Journal
  • Time Travel
  • Gallery
  • Contact
  • Home
  • Journal
  • Time Travel
  • Gallery
  • Contact