Today I am overwhelmed by the normal feelings I’m having. No, not normal-normal. Just an anticlimactic average-ness. I don’t feel the dangling over the cliff feeling, or the falling feeling, I don’t feel the trudging through the pits feeling, or the climbing out by fang and claw feeling. I’m just here.
I should feel something.
I don’t feel anything.
I was watching “Bones” on Netflix with my daughter while dinner was on the table. On taco night. Salsa and blood and ground beef and whatever the fuck those flesh eating beetles are. I’m too lazy to google that, but they sound really icky in real life, but very cool on TV. I’m taking a bite of taco and they pull a chunk of something out of the corpse… mmmmmm. Tacos! I had to laugh.
I fell asleep sometime late last night or early this morning and didn’t wake up until 6. I didn’t even fall asleep watching my Netflix friend “Dexter.” “It’s time to make the doughnuts.” said the Dunkin’ guy. (I wish I had a doughnut!) I only had to do yesterday’s dishes. I got them done and then had to immediately leave the house to drive to work. I watched the bad news until my son turned it down when they got to the hijacking in Egypt. It’s almost as hypnotic as those stupid reality tv shows, only the reality TV shows aren’t allowed to actually murder anyone. On the news they glorify that gore all the time.
It was incredibly boring. Because I don’t care about the murder, bloodshed, mayhem, bombings, war, hijacking, or even the national interest piece they did about the volcano in Alaska, or the fluff piece they did about honoring a great teacher. I am horrified that a year-old baby girl was stolen in the middle of the night, assaulted and killed, but I can’t feel it. That’s probably a good thing because I’d be really enraged by it. If I were enraged, I might suggest the guards at the prison let the guy in the general population and have an unscheduled lights out. 3 minutes ought to be enough time.
I am horrified that some jackass shot a cop, just as horrified as I was when some jackass cops shot at unarmed guys for walking, or running, away. I’m working up a little rage just thinking about it. I am horrified that some ass hole decided to start shooting at Washington DC. I am horrified that ass hole bombers blew up other people in Belgium, and several other countries recently, as well as power hungry rapist torturers and killers spread around the world, ass holes who just do mean shit to prove they are badasses. I mean, what planet do we live on? These people are acting like animals and they need to be put down. But I don’t feel the horror. I’m just mad.
I am horrified that not enough people have enough heart and enough $5 bills to take care of my blogger friend who needs help with her worthless relatives, her worthless third-hand car, her worthless donor who couldn’t be arsed to pay the legal child support required of him, her priceless child, and her priceless kitties. Why? Why don’t people care? (Go on, click it. Please.) If I had the money I’d relieve him of duty. And if I had the extra money I might hire some kind of “surgeon” to relieve him of donor capacity. He doesn’t need to go spreading the indifference and selfishness around more; there’s enough right here.
I’ll check and see if it’s any better tomorrow. I wish I could just go home and go back to bed. Except there are more damned dishes to be washed upon my arrival not to mention a whole damned house that needs a good cleaning and a bunch of clutter thrown out. It’s as chronic as the news and the daily junk mail. I just know it.
There’s half a v/t in the fridge because I fell asleep before I finished it and I only had one. Half. I must just be exhausted. Or maybe I’m falling into my regularly scheduled depression and I don’t feel it any more.
And this is why I wish the world revolved around me. If it did, I’d be able to fix it, and I would. Free will is great except people are abusing the privilege, not to mention abusing other people. I’m sick of other people doing mean shit to other people. The law, even when “justice” is served, doesn’t fix shit. The mean shit still got done, which means the mean people get away with doing whatever mean shit they wanted to. And if I gave a fuck, I’d give it now.
I was seeing if I could work up a good solid “FUCK,” with maybe a few exclamation points, but it’s worthless to be mad at the world because I can’t fix it and it doesn’t want to be fixed. It wants to be broken. If I tried, they’d level all their shotguns at me to make me stop.
So there it is. Only instead of a good solid “FUCK,” all I have is
PS. I heard a song on the radio today on the way to work. I’ll include it here. If I were feeling anything my heart might break just listening. I need some peace. Maybe it would re-start my heart, because I feel nothing. Heartless. Peace-less. I’ll check for a pulse tomorrow. And today, my wish for you is that you can find peace.