It had been a good day. The Sun was shining the sky was clear and blue and the temperature had shifted to something pleasant. But the attitude that came along with day’s end put a pall upon that. Sort of like a slap in the face that one doesn’t ever see coming. But then, realizing that sooner or later, it will surely arrive. The good relations turn sour very quickly. What does the world do about it? Nothing, of course. One’s own feelings are never important enough for anyone else as simply another stranger to take into account.
The headlines posed each day cast in the prevailing darkness of a film noir soap opera.The longer you live in this world creating suffering as you go, the more that you must suffer to an even greater degree! Maybe you don’t even know that you are embroiled in this same dilemma. That nagging feeling of persistent emptiness making its appearance. That metaphorical emotional iceberg in the midst of ocean light, blocking progress, seeking out humanity one ocean liner at a time. A persistent tightness behind the eyes that was telling a less than inspiring possibility defeating enthusiasm. A commonality of sorts with an unknowable world of anonymous billions. The incarnations of similar musings spilling forth at an incredible rate beyond the possibility of understanding. A universe growing ever more un-seeable that leads to a brutal tangible fact of ones own encroaching blindness. No one is completely alone in a mutual undisclosed shared experience of this despairing emptiness. A community of lost souls! Empty vessels slowly being drained of life. Degraded to the status of a mutuality of nobody’s. Worthless to themselves and wholly ineffectual to all others. When can one gauge that this current existence for themselves in recent memory had been any different? What then does one have to look forward to?
An emotion based methodology carrying one away to passing inspirations that only can exist at night. At waking, finding obsession in these phantom experiences that could not have rationally occurred in daily life. What demons come along unnoticed as less than expected baggage? A source of enigmatic inexplicable inspiration for those that need the breath of life within the spiritual vacuum of modern society to continue on as expected for another day. We mutually tell ourselves what the world is about in a manner ever too confident of the ground upon the shaky which we actually stand. The old horse beneath our heads will never leave the barn of its own accord no matter how painfully its flesh burns. A romance of a sort within the masochistic fiction of conventionality. One that exceeds one’s own power to defy that understanding and comprehend the consequences of simply continuing on as one has always done and expecting that ingrained false definition long hammered home as simply what it would seem to be.