Stream of Consciousness

I need to do something to remind myself I am still alive. This routine is getting perpetual and I feel myself caught in the whirlwind of it all. Won’t be long till I’m in the center, going down to a point of no return.

Spontaneity, I’ve learned, is part of what keeps me complete. There is much security in not knowing what tomorrow will bring. Family is another thing - what good is love if no one’s around to receive it? I am too judgmental and critical of - undeniably angry at - prospective comrades of both kinds to find anyone new to love; I feel myself drawing closer to those who I have always loved. But this is only in spirit, and their physical distance continues to ail me. Nature is the third of which I need to complete the circuit of my life, and it is the third of which I do not have these days.

This could be the beginning of depression, or the crossroads among many of my life. I want to be with people, but find my only opportunities exist through participating in activities I no longer enjoy, practices which feed the tormenting fire of perpetuation I mentioned before. Alcohol no longer has the effect on me it once did. It is my favorite pair of jeans that has been worn out. I estimate that this is the point in people’s lives where they start filling psychological and spiritual holes with material shit. Maybe I’ll get a boat, or some pills, or fake friends who have heard from me what I had correctly hypothesized they wanted to hear, or … something.

Completion is an evasive, difficult thing to attain.

I could really use a hard ride on the mountain bike through a corn field off Prosser Road.