It’s a calm, peaceful, quiet morning in a city supposedly about to be taken over by the US military. The clouds drift by, unbothered.
Good for you, clouds.
I can’t say the same for me. We’ve crested the hill of the rollercoaster and there’s no getting off now. Just have to try to stay in the seat until the ride is over.
It can’t end soon enough.
If it ever ends.
It’s one of those creaky, wheel-grinding mornings where I am battling inertia and inertia has the advantage, I think. Or maybe it’s the weight of the world, making it all the harder to get going.
It sits on us, doesn’t it, all of these horrible things piling and piling, and we can’t even keep them straight, we can’t keep track of them all. How did we get here, I wonder, when the future should be a bold and shining thing?
Why does humanity keep popping out the same characters, the same villainous, terrible characters, scattered, sometimes, for generations, and yet always back round again?
How many times has the sky seen the same thing play out, while only the weapons change?
Yet the clouds drift by, unbothered.
I think about that, sometimes, how the planet existed before we did, how, most likely, it will exist for a long, long, long time after we’re gone.
Assuming we don’t take it with us. Anything is possible.
I think about how many times the paths diverged, the path to goodness for most, the path to goodness only a for a few, and how frequently people choose the latter under the delusional hope they’ll be one of the few.
I wonder what it is in so many humans that makes them only feel good about something they have if someone else doesn’t have it. Why someone else’s pain and depravation is needed for them to squeeze out some happiness, no matter how short lived.
But the clouds drift by, unbothered.
Have a great Monday.
A Bit to Read 
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