Can't do it today. I just can't. The news is often heart wrenching, but the apathy and sometimes outright approval of the atrocities has reached my personal limit of unbearable.
Everyday I remind myself that every single person on this earth has had a unique experience of life. Different locales, different relationships with family, friends and passers-by. Different languages, customs, and preferences for breakfast. Perhaps their fingers trained upon a certain button on the remote control that automatically directs them to the most outright and outlandish of propaganda cradles. Or is it the amount of fiber and saturated fat in the diet? Hmmmm.
In real life, I'm often pensive (which is mirrored here on the web), but it comes with a huge dose of humor and sarcasm as I play pundit to the going ons around me. Wallflower by trade, prankster by nature - I can be both predictable and shocking at the same time. Ah, the joys of a Myers Brigg flunkie (I scored in the middle of all four categories the last time I took it). Not that my spirit is content or able to be defined by a studious sorter of personalities based on a bunch of culturally incompetent questions.
What does one do at the end of the proverbial rope? Let go and let
Do we see what we wish to see? Do the words we read, the speeches we witness, the smirks we view, the votes we cast, the bickering we thrive upon mean anything? I suppose the answer is yes, but it has been a very long time since any movement has been registered in the direction of sanity - using my personal Richter scale, of course. Yours may be functioning quite admirably, but it seems like my gauge has been broken or replaced by a more appropriate device.
No. The planet has certainly been tilting in a swiftly way that is beyond my comprehension. Madeleine L'Engle may have sussed out a nugget of truth in her reality, but I have yet to feel so lucky.
Whiner! Pessimist! Fool!
But it gives rise to the inner-phoenix. It is the defibrillator to my apathetic heart. The muse that needs both salt and sugar to remind itself that it is indeed alive. Perhaps I am cursed to walk this world like a sponge - absorbing the angst and elation that comes with life's secrets.
There's a key somewhere, but until I stumble upon it, a post like this will appear every once in a while to keep my ego in check and the floating light bulb illuminated that signals a reminder that there is still breath in my lungs, blood in my veins, and love in my life that can ultimately slay the abyss with light.
Can someone flick that switch?