I will never understand anything.

…no, it is my feelings that are ruthless — ruthless to me and to everyone else. They are inescapable, unforgiving. Tonight I run from myself again but I can’t escape; everything is impossible and sad.

…or maybe my feelings are as sane (or moreso?) than anyone, and it is merely the rest of the world that is ruthless, unfeeling, brutally cynical.

What did a good friend recently say?

“…you were miserable, they were miserable, everyone was miserable…”

It’s all too much. It’s always too much.

“…don’t think of it as amorality. Think of it as ruthless functionality…”

On balance, is it better to sacrifice the future for the present or the present for the future? Certainly there is rarely any way to preserve both.

Maybe it’s time to build it fresh

maybe it’s time to break

what you don’t detect won’t keep you,

or feed you

or know you anyway.

I woke up in the tiny hours of the morning to catch a flight out of SLC, connecting through Phoenix, to get to O’Hare. Unfortunately, once I was in SkyHarbor, I got stuck there most of the day thanks to this Chicago “storm” and a comely pile of cancelled flights.

I finally managed to get myself onto a flight to O’Hare (and experience the almost self-indulgent guilt of being one of about two people to do so, right in front of crowds of other passengers who weren’t able to manage it)… and by the time I land in the evening in O’Hare, my luggage is lost.

This fscking sucks. 🙁

Just as importantly, I can’t charge my phone because the charger is in my luggage. I’ve already exhausted most of the battery talking to people… there’s almost no talk time left.

I guess I’ll just go to bed. I could use a little escapism right now… but I don’t like being able to hear myself think this much. It’s sort of difficult to deal with.

Sometimes family life drives me fucking nuts.

Yet more insistent, driving snow outside. Rising tensions and the return of old mistakes from a circumscribed world inside. The 8-ball is telling me it’s time to lift my a$$ out of this town again and with a little patience, it’ll be done. Hang on, now. Presently.