How the hell does one do it?

How the hell does one do it? Age gracefully. How do you manage to spin and flow as you dive? As you die?
How do you make the best out of winter? How do you cook food and manage kids? Slap on a smile around your family? Pretend to listen to your friends? Sacrifice the time that you could be sitting underneath a tree all depressed, by hanging out with people that you don’t want to deal with?

How do you stand up tall and preach morality, and live a lie to yourself day after day? Get moving on coffee every morning so that you don’t fall asleep in the daylight? Make money and blow it all on retail therapy, games, watches, phones, vacations, cars, and expensive pets. On a box of pizza slathered with cheese and grease.

How do you chain smoke and not hurt your throat 24/7?
Don’t you ever get mad because the world is as is it right now?
Can you put on a colorful jacket on a rainy day and walk the grey, dark, cold streets without an umbrella just to feel alive? Or would you rather have tea parties with a bunch of freaks and have a good time. Would you be willing to lose it all over a bottle of wine. Would you lose your house and a car and walk the streets naked. Would you live to tell about it.

20190106_HowTheHellDoesOneDoSociety_Sn.jpg

Advertisements

Money mania

It’s not fun to wake up feeling like you lost your job while you’re out. Unfortunately, maybe what I’m feeling is felt by many who just can’t take a break from the cut-throat world. We’re turned into workaholics and maniacs, robots and scumbags. When we step away, it somewhat lingers deep inside our skin like a virus in remission.

Responsibilities, obligations, tasks…. Blaaaaaahh. Can’t even say blah because there will be robots who get offended by someone saying that. They’re so conditioned to believe that being boring is the righteous way. Why care? Why can’t the world be more simple like the way it used to be? I’m mad at the world. I’m upset that money is the driving force. I feel sorry for them all.

20181023_075855-1

Harsh realities of losing hope

Worn out and walking around
Trying to open my eyes. All around, there’s the blind leading the blind and chickens with their heads cut off; whatever you want to call them.

I’m caught in a slew of nothingness, or just too many things happening all at once. There’s no fine balance,
but a brutal divide.

Cruel capitalist world for someone whose heart is set on riding a hay wagon. You may think “that’s so 1800s,” but I developed roots from parts of the world that still do that. That’s where my heart is… in the simple things, primitive basic work, hand sewn clothes… and the utter desire to feel human. I wash my hair with rye flour to do that.

But I’m hit with the harsh realities that people have been hit with
During the time of the agricultural revolution
Or the industrial revolution
Or the capitalist sweep and the degradation of everything.

I’m standing still in the moving crowd. The business people are actively, actively seeking to destroy the environment for imaginary money and fast cars. The civilian stomach growls,
waiting to be fed cheese and bacon. Majority of the world sleeps inhaling the comforting scent of synthetic compounds, and the rest of the world is headed there.

In days like these I feel hopeless. Like an ant holding onto a massive leaf. An insect trying to crawl against a landslide…
A drop of sunshine during mid winter.
A handful of crowd against a multi-billion population.

What I have to say is so meaningless.

20171206_143612.jpg