Feel as if I’ve adopted insomnia though it is more as if insomnia adopted me. Awake or asleep doesn’t matter my mind is always running. A constant over saturation of ideas that are very much independent of one another. One after the other over and over with no resolve. Who have I become and what must I do to get rid of all these wasted thoughts? Are these things really important to me anymore?
Judge each other on the idea that we know anyone. Peace in the idea that we understand something we have no idea about. Ignorance is tolerated because we are all ignorant. There is no solution to any of this. Constantly asking ourselves, myself what is it that I know to be true?
We evolve in time within our minds. Not the same person I was before I died yet I feel the same as I ever have. Chasing a shadow in the dark. Searching for whatever it is that I have become. Monster or man what is the difference this far along?
At this point in time they have become one. Not sure I’m okay, but I’ll survive. Not sure I even have or had a choice in all this time. They say we do, but they also say there is a God that makes every decision for us. Conflicting conflict right there if you ask me. The world is evolve or die. God or man the laws are the same. Simple and complex all at the same time.
Diving right into the subject on this one. I’m sure I’ll dip in and out of anything I have to say. Thought about all of this six hours ago. My favorite book of all time is Post Office by Charles Bukowski. If you haven’t read it well. Well you should have by now. Bukowski is something else. Amazon has labels, the library has a section, but to me Bukowski is life. With that said is Post Office the greatest book ever written? Probably not. Could careless if anyone or no one else likes it.
The thing about Post Office that I love so much is this feeling. This feeling that life will never get better. This feeling that life is a trap. This feeling that you will always be stuck doing the same thing forever. I struggle with these issues on a daily basis as I’m sure most of us do. This doesn’t go away as we get older. But in a sense you have to settle. I hate to use that word and by definition what I’m about to say would go against that word. You get a fucking Treasures I’m writing here.
Point is that in life not everything is perfect all the time. Not every aspect of your life is what you dreamed it would be. One realizes with time that the only power they have is to choose which aspects of their lives to focus on. You can only spin so many fucking plates until it all comes crashing down.
I work hard at my job. Ask any of them and I’m awesome or whatever, but that place could burn down tomorrow. I’d be more pissed that I now have to find another job I don’t care about then anything to do with that place. I settled for my job. Oh well could give a fuck. I need money for things I actually care about.
I didn’t settle on my family or the time that I spend with them. I don’t settle on my writing. Maybe after draft eighteen, but most of the time I don’t. These are things that I can make perfect. Things that I can care about. Things that make me happy. Yes I have that emotion somewhere deep down in there. Things I won’t settle for.
Post Office didn’t teach me any of this. What Post Office did was made me realize I was trapped. That I was lost. That I was going to get stuck. Post Office made me think and that is why books are important. I saw the parallels that I was living to the main character, and I knew that, that was not what I wanted. I knew I didn’t want to just get by in this life. I had a goal and I needed to do more than hope. I needed to do more than let the waves drag me under. Fuck what happens. That is what Post Office left me with. This feeling that what was going to happen was going to happen anyways. Might as well fuck with it until it does. We get one life. Take a chance.
“In the morning it was morning and I was still alive. Maybe I’ll write a novel, I thought. And then I did.”
Charles Bukowski, Post Office
The weatherman calls for rain, but then again it always rains here. The rain is cold and it is harsh against my clothes and against my skin. The rain comes down and it pours, and when it doesn’t pour it turns into mist that surrounds me to always let me know that it is there with me. The rain will never leave.
The weatherman calls for rain. He is an idiot in a village full of them. The rain builds up on the edges of the streets and seeps on to the sidewalk. The rain puddles look like lakes on the ground. I feel as if I am Jesus walking on water, but the holes in my shoes bring me closer to the ground than closer to god.
The weatherman calls for rain, but what does it matter? When it rains it pours and it makes days seem like weeks and weeks like months. Time stands still here only the rain and the weatherman are constant around me. Some days it burns and some days it heals, but its presence is always with me. I wonder what it would be like without all the rain.
The weather man calls for rain, and I assume my place once again.
Story blog how strange… This is a flash fiction micro tale about nothing inspired by my time in Washington State… Fun fact it rains there.. a lot.. I remember walking to work and dodging the tidal waves created by the city buses… For a place with so much rain it always seemed as the roads were flooded… Too broke to afford even the bus. I often arrived to work soaking wet.. It was very humbling and honestly some days I miss it. Maybe it’s the youth I miss… Not caring about anything… Of course that wasn’t even the case then… Everything seemed way more important than it ever actually was.. I worked in a fucking video store.. haha…
Another reason I wrote this story was because I could careless about the weather.. Not the environment.. I care about that.. Put your fangs back in… What I mean is that I don’t care if it is raining or not… It either is or it isn’t.. So to me weather specialist are kind of pointless… Tying it all together… There might be some more symbolism in there somewhere… Not sure what it could be..
It is easy to get lost in all this shit. It is easy to forget that there is a whole other world out there. One I used to be a part of. Friends that I used to know. Places I used to go and now it is the same thing over and over again. The same old bull shit. Not much longer from now this will turn into the past, and just like my current past it will all become lost again.
It’s somewhere in there already, but lost all the same. Distant memories made up of good times and bad. I miss some of it. Okay a lot of it. Times were simpler of course because they always are. Life doesn’t get any easier than the way it was before. I miss Japan. I miss the life that I had there and yet I don’t really. At the time it was alienating. It was strange. Not the country. The country is amazing. It is part of me. Anytime I hear something bad happening there or happened I feel for the people. Off point. The things that were strange about being there was that I shouldn’t have been there at all.
All day I meet people who have never left the state let alone the country. I shouldn’t have been so lucky to see another country. To experience a life and a world outside of my own. It is damaging. Good or bad it was damaging. It has caused me to be lost in this new world I must live in. This off-putting only I matter world when you and I really don’t. That’s the thing about not getting out of your bubble is that you don’t realize that you are not important. Sure you can cause a big scene maybe fuck up some people’s day, but honestly you and your whole town could vanish of the face of the earth. Life would go on. A depressing thought I know, but the truth can be that way sometimes.
They’d make a new town. Maybe not right away because a bunch of people just vanished, but over time they’d move in. People love free shit even if it might kill them. Life is so minimal that it seems to be something greater than it really is. It is all so serious when it doesn’t have to be. We are either losing out on enjoying life or at a shot to enjoy life. It comes full circle I guess. I don’t know. Maybe I am only speaking for myself with the idea that I am speaking to others.
Looking back I wasted so much time caring about what others think or how things should be. Could be my cross to bear or it could be life. Either way I am lost in this new world I am forced to live in or I am lost in the old one that I had to give up. Life is ever evolving, constantly changing, and we are all here to keep it going. Lost or not we all have our place in time.
Their hollowed out eyes surround me. Lions and bastards surrounding their kill. The world has long died, buried dead within these sad eyes. The year was 2015, yesterday and you are all as fucked as me. Cunts the size of the Grand Canyon couldn’t satisfy the overwhelming need to be fucked by those around you. The world is splitting in two only one side has very little to stand on and the other more than enough to do what we all feel like we must, live.
Today marks the day that we stand before the fallen Christ of our lost generations. Pick an idol, a martyr, and march the fuck on because we are long behind. Long overdue for another cause no one gives a fuck about. Something that matters now and won’t matter to the next generation. We take so much shit for granted as if this is how it has always been when it hasn’t. Our reality is built-in virtual thoughts and ideas. Our perspective produced by man-made devices used to distract us from the very thing that holds us down from generation to generation.
We give them more money while ignoring the fact that they are taking more and more of our freedoms. At least we are free to be who we want online. At least we still have that. As long as we all feel good about that then I guess it doesn’t matter. Lies fed to us from everywhere. Becoming harder and harder to know who is right and who is wrong. Up vote if you even know what I am saying. Lies spilled out over time, ideas expressed through emotions. Does anybody remember when? Any of this ever made sense?
See the world from our screens the all new glass windows of the world. What reason do we have to live if we’ve seen it all? What reason do we have to not succumb to all of this is there are no reasons at all? Life is to easy to ever understand what it really means to live anymore. We are not the future anymore. We are very much the present and soon to be past. Nothing can stop the juggernaut that we have created, but in reality who said we ever wanted it to stop?
When you transfer you just take on other people’s problems. More bullshit you don’t want, but have to smile and take it. Nothing like selling yourself to the highest bidder only to take on more debt you don’t need. This place, these types of places are the end of the American dream and the beginning of the new slave auction houses. A spectrum much greater than we thought even existed. Ride the lightning like it is going somewhere but it’s not. Too much smoke in the eyes and up our asses.
We live in a clouded haze of long lost broken ideals. Where does the lie end and the truth long lost on the damned begin? The minority of the majority. Stop to listen and get ran over for reflecting for a second. We like to stand on the backs of others and then wonder why they get so upset for shitting all over them. Such a strange scenario. Maybe the air is too thin at the top to think straight. If you treat those at the bottom right they in turn will treat you in the same manner. Religion understood this even if they choose to blindly ignore the principle today.
As time goes on the madness sinks in. Deep within our minds and our bodies. Right down to the bones. We think we are owed something because we are. Basic rights are not hard to grant, but seems so much easier to take. Respect is hard to come by when you are at the bottom. Better than me? Sure, but what happens when the money is all gone? I’ll have a shovel waiting for you. The shit goes in the corner and its best you do as you’re told. Welcome to your new home. The sky has a limit and the ground keeps sinking under the weight of all this shit. How is it to feel like me? Love for you to tell me.
Stress seems to affect us at different volumes and different values. Not everyone can handle what it takes anymore. The times they change things even if the game is the same. Used to be about survival now it’s about living. About doing nothing. The goals were once simple. Now the goal is to find a way to do nothing at all. Today nothing ever gets done because someone else will take care of it. Someone else will do it don’t worry. Who the fuck is this someone else?
Oh I forgot it was me. Forty hours a week to make up for all the mistakes, all the things that no one wants to do. This place drags me down. Consumes me and leaves me broken. All I hear is complaints about the shit that I don’t do. Poorly managed is an understatement. I think they train them to be this stupid. I often wonder if I was dropped on my head too many times or not enough. Decisions are made with the littlest of thought. Fuck ups happen constantly and the only way is to keep letting them happen.
God forbid you communicate that said idea is a bad one. Excommunicated from the conversion from there on. Condemned until it of course fucks up then you are to blame for its failure. I try to stay out of it. To stay away from it, but they drag you in. They need someone to blame, but I can’t let go. I hang on to their every word. Loyalty buried deep within my very existence. Stupidity running right beside it. Trust no one and no one can let you down.
If only I could live by the words that I preach. If I could live by the way it is supposed to be. What happened to do the right thing? What happened to hard work? Gave a way to reward the weak and bury the strong. I see that it pays to do nothing at all, but I can’t stand by and watch it all fall. To watch it fail makes me feel as though I failed. Whether I get paid either way or not. The world should not work this way, but somehow it does. Somehow the world keeps turning and all I can think is fuck it all.