budgets, work, housework BLOWS…

I have been out way too much this week but I am amazingly sane. Slow curling smoke rising from my menthol in a crowded bar with light jazz lilting over the all too young crowd has been just what I have need. That and high doses of “the usual“. It’s a tragic night with tragic people. Daniel is a drunk unlike any other and my friend behind the bar is tragic in his own way. I am tragic along with the rest of them in ways that even I do not comprehend. Tragic is the word for the week. Everyone is tragic in their own way. Sad secrets and unfollowed dreams that they may not even realize. Nothing scars you deeper than the things you haven’t done. Blares over the speakers while I write and I wonder how tragic Cory is feeling right now.

Masses of people doing masses of things in their own special ways. Freeways jam packed with people who don’t want to be where they’re going in the morning and want to be where they’re going in the evening less. Tragedy permeates out lives and we don’t even see it. We have a false sense of happiness based on what they tell us should make us happy. We cannot rise up and demand what we do not know we want.

Sorry for being depressing today. It’s tragic isn’t it?