since the last day like this

—

there is no hate or anger in me these days, just despair

Yet another one.

—

I could run my hands over a smooth river stone for the rest of my live and never become bored.

—

Remorse is for the weak.

for the record,

for the first time in a while:

Life sucks. And humans suck twice as much.

On any given day,
gray,
cloudy,
filled with rain,
the roads can take you there.

Ten miles or
twenty,
winding, in wind-swept
solitude, hands on wheel,
you drive.

Along the coast,
you pass hauntings,
ghosts of peoples’ pasts,
docks, boats, footprints,
and voices hung in air.

At length you are at the shore,
final edge of the sea;
around you seagulls, unsatsfied,
call out your name in foreign tongues.
“Are you still alive?”

You pause,
waves lapping at your feet,
smelling the salt air.
You bend; you collect a rock;
you skip it.

You wonder.

where they draw lines in the sand trying to get you to cross them. They get so focused on trying to show you up that they forget to wonder how they’ll feel if you actually do cross them. I’ve done it to others. Others have done it to me. It’s one of the most counterproductive things that can be done, and it’s human nature, a common habit.

It always pays, before drawing a line in the sand to embarrass someone, to wonder whether you’ll be very upset if they actually surprise you and cross the line that you’ve drawn, especially if you’ve drawn it hastily and angrily.

No sense in goading people into doing things they otherwise might not have done, especially if they’re things you’d rather not see happen. It’s like world leaders saying to each other “Go ahead, launch the bomb, you coward!” expecting to be able to follow it up with “I know you wouldn’t do it—you’re weak!” but instead finding themselves in the midst of a nuclear winter.

The old story.

“Dammit why are you so qualified?” on Thanksgiving, and “Why the fuck are you so lazy?” on Christmas. “Wow, you have a lot of degrees and experience!” on St. Patrick’s Day and “Jesus you are a layabout!” on April Fool.

I don’t know. I guess I’m just lucky and people keep giving me stuff.

You can’t escape yourself.

I guess I’m the stealth worker/stealth achiever. I apparently never earned a thing.

I am frustrated enough to be tempted to break my phone in half.

Presumably I am more mature than before and won’t…

Just everything.

—

I am as unwilling to sacrifice today for tomorrow as I am unwilling to sacrifice tomorrow for today.

—

All anyone has ever wanted in the world is to be heard.

—

Life = not so amazingly cool.

—

Receeding. Recession. Distance. Memory. Fading. Haze. Recollection. Loss. Immediacy. Overshadowing. Invisibility. Forgotten.

lead to a shared conflict. Right now life is a mess and nobody is happy.

Rocky.

Thoughts.

Self.

Trust.

Familiarity.

Risk.

Danger.