Thursday Thoughts

I am tired. Tired of work, tired of being alone, tired of the state of the world, tired of people being idiots, tired of politics, tired of secrets, tired of lies, tired of truths, tired of being sick, tired of bills, tired of being tired.

I would like to take a vacation, but most of what I am tired of will still be with me on the vacation and will still be draining my soul even while I attempt to relax. And all of it will still be there when I return from vacation.

Everything is electronic and cookie-cutter and bland these days, which does not help.

I used to sit down and write a short story or a poem when I reached this level of dissatisfaction. Or I would sketch, draw, or paint something to take me away. But the sameness of things has even invaded my arts and everything I do seem puerile and stunted; as bland as what I see everywhere else. I have started three separate stories or ideas in the recent past and had each one just sort of slink away from me within a page or less of brainstorming and writing. I have not gone beyond doodling in quite some time, let alone painting. It is like I have a form of writer's block that has wormed its way into the darkest reaches of my life, far beyond just writing.

Every now and then something crops up, like a small candle in an otherwise dark room, that sparks my interest for a moment. A phenomenal story (whether book, TV, comic, or movie) or a passionate thought or something innovative and unique motivates me for a brief moment until the malaise creeps back.

I was sitting at a red light on my way to work the other day. I glanced around and every vehicle looked roughly the same. Glancing at those driving, I found myself surrounded by a mob of blond women who all looked pretty much the same; long, straight, unnaturally colored hair, overly tanned faces, gold necklaces, and sunglasses. Blah, blah, blah. Where is the sexy, pale, red-head? Where is the sultry raven-haired seductress? Where is the brown-haired, wide-eyed professional?

Most of us have passions that burn within. Some use it as a foundation and impetus for a job, and others have passions that seek outlets in hobbies or activities. These passions need stoking both from inside and outside. We all go through periods of lassitude and it is at those times that people need an external flame to help stoke the fires of their passions. I guess I am in that situation now; my light is nearly out and I am seeking some external source to get it burning steadily once more. Nothing I do seems to help. If I had my mom's faith, I would pray. If I had Chris' doggedness, I would push through it with my eye ever on the future. If I had a woman in my life and/or children, I might be able to find that passion within the relationship. Or I could be like Jennifer and seek solace and solutions in the past with the goal of reinventing the present and future.

Of course, the irony is that I read over what I have written and all I see is a sea of blandness and whining, the same things that I hear from everyone else. And I just want to crawl back into my little cave.