puzzle

The day begins with Bukowski… every day begins with Bukowski… and it is a great boost to head out into this carnivorous and barbaric world, this crumbling so-called civilisation, still warmed by his words and his world view. Sunday brought disappointment in that the trip I was hoping to take to Vancouver in April fell through and I am currently floating along in a listless state as if between jobs… as if between reasons to live. My job is no more and I am moving onto a new one but, for the next two weeks I remain in the one that I am no longer entitled to do… it is an odd feeling of displacement. For years we strive through fear in school; fear of failure and of being a disappointment or of being homeless and hopeless; we study and work and develop skills hoping to find a job and to build that job into a career in which we excel. And then comes a day, many years along, that we are told we are no longer wanted or needed or cared about and we must push on in search for alternative means of survival. And we struggle on in a desperate attempt to maintain a standard of living… or even to remain alive with food and a home and sometimes I can’t understand why. The genetic coding responsible for our instinct of survival truly amazes me because the fact that we don’t have mass suicides every day is something that continues to puzzle me.

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