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.
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