What echos forward

I have been trying to write for over an hour. For me, that’s a long time. Usually 10-15 minutes and an idea or seed forms.

All I can think about is something I already wrote. Just this mantra, over and over

“This is a broken world.
But You are not broken.”

I may be broke. I may be damaged. But this world has not broken me.

I find this repeating in my head often lately. I find it’s more true today than when I wrote it. It’s like past me was reaching out to future me with a truth that I needed.

This IS a broken world
But I am NOT broken

Awoke upon a distant dreaming

Waking up every hour
Nightmares playing scenarios through my mind
Drink some water and descend into something so real that waking is relief
Thankful that I am peripheral player in each
But deeper past people I know until I breach some layer
And indelible images which make mock of decency
Of kindness
Play out as if I am a camera lens
Unable to act
Six punctuated hours of sleep
Six different nightmares
There is more sleep in me
But my endurance for nightmares is spent

Pepper on the tongue

Love is layered
One act
One word
Built day by day
Until the inevitable bloom of forever

Love is layered
One act
One word
Hurts day by day
Until the inevitable decay of forever

Love is choice
Conscious actions
Made with care and deliberation

What we feel may be immutable
But feelings are not love
They are but a single layer

It is in the accumulation
In the choice
Where truth lives
……….

And I write of love because we are so distant now
Steeped in love
In desire
In hope
But so far away
It’s a pain that grows
Briefly assuaged by words on the screen
Empty beds
And the need which gnaws at the
Root

“Post”-Quarantine Blues

I’m getting super stressed. Not because of the quarantine. I’ve adjusted to that. Gotten used to working from home in a t-shirt. Prior to this, outside of gym workouts, I haven’t worn a t-shirt in literal years. I’m comfortable. If I’m having a bad time of it, I go and hang out with my cat. I go outside and just soak up the sun.

I don’t have any of the social interaction stress. I don’t have to put on a false front. I don’t lose 2 hours a day to driving to and from work. I get more work done. I enjoy my work more.

But they are making us go back into the office. Effective Monday, May 18th. Because Americans are idiots. Because “the economy” is more important than lives. Because they only know how to fight the last war. Because politicians care more about their electability than the people they are supposed to be advocates for. And because corporations only care about the appearance of what is right and not the actuality of what is right.

So I’m stressed and not sleeping. I finally crashed Wednesday afternoon and woke up at midnight. Missing my posting deadline.

I hope you are all doing better. But, I’ll be honest, I can’t see how it will be better for a long time.

Shadows of the gaslight

Normal is a false front
A dream held out as tangible
Flaring to smoke when we touch it
Dreams make the world go round
But make sure its your dream of a better life
Not their dreams of another yacht
Which you buy into
Voting with your dollar
An American terminology
Even now I here it whispering
Not just products but politicians
Corruption at a level so fundamental
That it’s systematic
We two party system and vote with our team
Rather than with our conscience
And all the while they whisper
Normal is a new car
A new drink
A nostalgia trip designed to make you feel comfortable
Normal like it ever was
Normal like that is what you want
We normalize exceptionalism
As if yacht dreams were true
It used to be a chicken in every pot was prosperity
Now its a Tesla and smart watch
One feeds the body and keeps the mind ready for a new day
The other says more is the way to go
It’s that siren song of new and better
That dream of the future
We mortgage our present for the intangible
All while we are assaulted that this is normal
That the consequences of our reality are not what’s real
It’s all fake news
The mantra of the child
Sitting in the corner
Ears covered
Eyes squeezed shut
Screaming over and over
‘Fake News’
Who are you gonna believe
The man trying to give you a normal life
Or your lying eyes
Nostalgia is a lie
Normal is a lie

What was is never again
And the only way forward is with
Eyes wide
Ears open
Hearts heavy but accepting
Don’t allow yourself the cozy warm blanket of normal
It’s made of asbestos
The past was never the place we remember
Try not to forget
This time

Slowly building rant

I want to say that we’re all in this together and that we’ll get through it together
But I find my faith in humanity has faded
As my contact with those people who make existence worth living has also faded
As the pure loneliness caves in my walls
I find myself seeing the self delusion for the bare knuckle fear it is
I see the desire to categorize people as other
To separate and in separation create the cult atmosphere of us vs them
I see the herd mentality breaking systems which were never envisioned to sustain assault by the herd
I see greed eat philosophy so much that the philosophers give up on philosophy
Instead calling out the hypocrisy of cloaks of gold draped over “common man”
I see rebellion fomenting but leaderless and rudderless
Just a stampede waiting to break
I see people living for a past that never existed
Yearning for a truth that was always built on a lie
Prosperity begins at the bottom not the peak
You ask me to drink from some stream you dammed
Calling it trickle down
While you swim in your lake
Too much for you to ever use
Too much even for you to invest in people and ideas
So much that even if spend every waking moment finding worthy causes, you still accrue more wealth than you spend
How then am I to ever get my fill?
If all I get is your scraps
This delusion that you will someday be rich so you safeguard the wealthy is directly making us poor
Burning our infrastructure for profits
Voting for less say in our own prosperity in the hope that those greedy enough to take more than they will ever need will share that prosperity with us
Delusion upon delusion
I once thought that in humanity there was hope
That the craven depths were outweighed by the glorious heights
That the predominance went to beauty
Instead
Sold to whomever promises magic beans to be delivered at some vague future date
And not today’s magic beans but from when magic beans were great
We’re making magic beans great again
Don’t you believe me?
I’ve got hats

Missing from the page

Working from home and staying inside fucked with my head. I thought yesterday was Thursday all day. Which resulted in me not posting.

Everything is stressful and those things which used to be recreational are now mandatory. I’m isolated and it’s killing me. Emotionally and mentally. Not physically. I spend most of my time working or sleeping. I’m only eating 2 times a day if that and not even snacking.

The stress I thought I had handled ratcheted up last week when my employer fired not furloughed people like it promised. Now I and everyone are just waiting for the blade to drop.

There nothing I can do that I’m not already doing and being helpless is not my strong suit.

Civilization blinks, breaks, like dust, gone

We stand as trees
Proud and varied
Close but still breathing
Still strong
Nestled in our branches the edifice above
Creaks and groans
Held above by log and lies
Blood coagulated
The soft peace of a life without struggle
Ok is good enough
Grows heavier
Boughs break
Weight settles
The sky breaks through
Around us
Once tall and safe
Lay stumps
Shifting shivers bark
Fear begins to sway
Waiting for our turn
Waiting to break
To burn
Or merely to fade
As hope fails
As last light
Which
New found
Now fades
And into the unknown
We proud
We strong
Roots deep
Shiver in fear

A pandemic is no time to be iconoclastic

You roll the dice
Walking around hoping
Laughing and drinking
Why care
You fell ill but you were dine
What’s the big deal
Go to work
Scratch your face
Cough lightly on the water fountain
It’s fine
You feel fine after a few days
No worries
You hear that Kev in marketing who sometimes flirts with you is home sick
No worries he’s young
He bounces back and is in his cubicle the next week
You hear his grandmother is sick
Poor dear
You pray for her
But you know it’s not something you did
How could it?
You’ve been ok for a few weeks
A week passes and more people on the floor are going home sick
That Kev really gets around
Then you hear Kev is out again
Sick? You ask
No, his grandmother passed, the poor dear
Thats awful you say but she lived a full life
You watch the news and hear that this thing might be serious but the president says in a few weeks everything will be back to normal
He must know, though that doctor kept butting in
Another week and people can work from home but only if management approves
No one wants to be the one who abandons ship so you all stay
You see that a local retirement home has a bunch of cases and a couple more deaths
Couldn’t be your fault
You’re fine
You here Kev is back and his eyes are puffy from crying
He’s taking this very hard but then you hear his grandfather is sick and his father is on a ventilator
His family is having a hard time
But the country will be fine by April, right?