On being a bastard.

  For as easy of a person as I am to get along with, I'm a terribly difficult person to really get to know and live with; I don't know how my family puts up with me some days. Maybe it's not as bad as I make it out to be but I am a bonafide contrarian, and it frustrates even myself. The problem is with awareness.  Because I spend such a huge amount of the time in my own head, I know all my own little quirks inside out, and catch myself on it when I pull something in real life: It may go unnoticed by everyone else but you can't fool yourself.

  So, for as peaceful as I am it stands to reason that I am a seething ball of chaos not far below the surface. I really don't intend for this to paint a melodramatic picture of my life because it is far from terrible, however, the burden I carry lies within me.

  Everyone suffers in their own ways. Life, is suffering. Period. What it means, it means to us alone and it's what we made it to, to appease our deeper desires that wish to pull something from the experience of it.

  I like these dark days of mine but it's all too comfortable and easy to get lost in; I've tasted that darkness once already and don't wish to go back. I won't go back. But, it's still pertinent to poke your head in there once in a while, see if anything changed or to realign with yourself.

  I feel helpless other than to write out these demons so they don't overstay their welcome, as they have before. Maybe for some, psychotherapy works but I don't believe in that either. I don't think it's right to be paid money to do what we should be doing for each other in the first place, out of goodwill towards men (and women), to have someone determine what the mental health of an individual costs per hour.

  The world has lost touch, and this is the part where the blame gets passed, the fingers get pointed. I can't blame any one thing in particular because it's a collective failing. I hate that couch surfing is our national pastime, and that a television has now replaced the campfire as a social circle to congregate around. I hate seeing people with their faces in their phones constantly, like we can't be stand to be bored for two seconds and just stand there and observe. I hate that chain restaurants are the new home dinner, and the reason it is that way.
  Most of all, I hate that I do all this myself; I'm trapped, a prisoner in my own mind and only I have the key. If there is one thing I know, however, it's that it's not going to be found in any one of 9,000 channels.