Sunday, April 19, 2015

I am the Wind

I am the wind. The baggage of my life carried with me everywhere I go. For whatever reason, I am never quite weak enough to drop it, but not strong enough to cast it away from me. Often when people ask me how my day is, or how I am doing, I only reply “I'm here.” Its never a good day, not really a bad one. It is a confusing answer, but its true. For almost thirty four years I have crawled or walked on this Earth, and I can honestly say, most of those days have not been good or bad, just days.


For the last three years there have been more bad than good. I am not the only one who says this, the only one that feels this way. I am not the only one that laments what I am about to repeat. I am not on the edge mentally. I am not depressed according to the literature, no mental disease or defect to be found. I don't engage all the normal behaviors. I'm just wore down from it all. I don't like for death, I don't wish for it, I certainly don't want it. But it would just be nice to not wake up. Just pass my life away in some other state of being.

Maybe wake up in a place where I have some of the things that I strive for. The simple things I desire. Maybe wake up in a place where my country, my home land isn't dysfunctional. A place where people were logical and rational, where we actually discuss problems and solutions, a place where we help our fellow people, and we don't look down on the people who have less than we do. A place where people actually cared about others, about the little rock we inhabit as a whole. A place where people would or even could set aside their ideology to make things better for all, not people like them, or even the people they see themselves as being.

I'm here is just an affirmation that I have woken in the morning or afternoon, or whenever it is I awaken. It seems I have problems sleeping at night now, too long sleeping in a tent, waiting to sound the alarm if a tree might fall, or the water/snow load was getting too heavy for the tent. I don't like being in a room, I can't hear what is going on outside, the air just hangs, even with the heater or air conditioner running.

It is disheartening, people expressing their “religious rights” to discriminate against Gays, get tons of funding, yet the homeless and poor are left to grab whatever scraps they can find. It's worse when you can see the comments. It gets even harder and worse when you try to discuss things, and people start with “because I want to accumulate capital. Zero interest in having my capital taxed for the benefit of someone else. I am glad to donate to charity, give my time, work with kids and teach skills... but I don't work for someone else's benefit.”

In a civilized society, taxes are the price of admission. One that we all pay when we work, or receive benefits. People seem to forget, or they just don't realize that being poor, being homeless, being looked down at as though you are an animal, being treated as badly or worse than an animal takes a toll on the human body and mind. Sure, its good to have positive interactions with people, it makes you feel like you aren't just some sack of meat walking around. But it is when they move onto spouting their beliefs that you get deflated again.