Thoughts on aging in the coming age
It’s cold, 39 degrees. I turned on my heat this morning, I’ve tried to not think about it. But like the moon landing, I couldn’t help it,
What must it be like to go so far. To only find dust, and isolation?
for four years, I’ve tried to watch and observe…
I was married, I’m now divorced…
Women without men are an idea, women with men are a complication…
We altogether are a complication. A mood in itself.
We post on dating apps, photos of ourselves in Egypt and camping and we want a man with a car, a house, a job, a pleasant disposition. And he has to make us laugh…
But he’s too short, he’s too round, his eyebrows are too thick…
I can’t take you to Egypt, I hate camping…I like my solitude…
I haven’t played a video game since 2004
Can I just cook you dinner, play a record, dance with you and tell you, you’re the nicest thing I’ve ever seen?
We want absolutes
But we want to be accepted
But we have requirements
You reach a certain age, maybe it’s just me…
You reach a place, you take stock of your life…
What have you really achieved?
Are you what you want?
How does one maintain faith?
It feels so far away…
How did the astronauts handle
Something so grand
How does one live ….
Age to age …
As we use an algorithm
I’ve watched as we do not talk
To each other
I’ve asked myself how our children
And our youth will remember this
What have we taught them
What do they consider presidential?
What is life?
What does a leader look like?
To our children
To the young people
To the rest of the world
I think about how I grew and changed
And what I have been impressed with
And my heart has ached for so long
For the young people
For what the new leaders
Across the globe
What impressions are we leaving
What are we saying?
Tomorrow and I feel
through most of December
The world will be on its toes
The money making machine of american headlines
But how do we go from here?
We’ve left our kids at home
We’ve thrown more work on them
It’s not the degrees
It’s the regular jobs that carry us
The ones we looked down on
It’s not the student debt
Or the bank account
It’s the ability to stay calm
It’s the ability to process information
The ability to think
And make a decision
Something is amiss
within my faith
I seek solitude
We used to have Hollywood as a job
Now it’s a bubble that tells us what we should do,
And puts our vulgarity on our forehead like we are screwing on the table at thanksgiving…
And vulgarly demands that the family and the world be ok with it…
It leaves nothing to the imagination.
We can’t miss a paycheck
If we do we are homeless
None of the people I know
None of the minorities I know
Are even resembling of this nature
Yet we continue to use the algorithm
When it doesn’t even reflect us
We say everyone has shown their true colours this year, that’s just not true
Everyone has always shown us their colours…we just didn’t want to hear them or see them…because we wanted them to be what we wanted them to be.
The algorithm simply shows us what we want to see…
We wanted the same for us too…
This is the crisis…
The crisis of ….
To be without faith
Is to be empty
Surely there is something left of honor
I do not know
I look to the sky
And I pray
But I can’t find anything
Truth is something we are meant to discern not the media or the newspaper or social media or apps
Or smoke signals
But our eyes and hearts and minds
What is presidential?
What is decency ?
What is character ?
I envy the self that writes this and does not know of tomorrow or election results or headlines
So much of our government relies on the honor system
And if it is abused
So much can go away and be re written
And we understand so little of this
Space is cold
It’s vast and it’s dark
And so is my heart
It began years ago
In small stages
I wanted a family
I wanted a home
I wanted to love and cherish and be loved and cherish
I wanted to take care of someone
To have this purpose
I only want this solitude
To fade away
To understand what purpose is …
The world is raging
I hope we can find ourselves
I hope we can stop for a moment
I hope we can look up
And ask for help.
Death is real and random
We are but a moment
And this crisis
Is too much
Maybe you reach a certain age
And it happens to everyone
Where they feel like the new generation has everything wrong
I feel like none of us are ourselves
I feel like we’ve all been duped
Even the best of us…
Maybe it’s just me….
I feel like we are in a bad dream
And the acid rain is falling
And the church bells are ringing
And the boots are on the ground
And the ashes are drifting like snow
From the ovens over the ridge
They are about to show us the ovens
Used to cook our brothers
And we are about to hold napkins over our mouthes and breathe
“I didn’t know, I didn’t believe….”
What reason did we have to build this machine?
How did we get here
You reach a point
And you ask
What have I really achieved
I’m not any of the things I wanted to be
I’m still empty
I’m still void
After such ambition
Do we look back
Only to see the void
Coldness of life
We can’t stand the silence
We can’t even sit with it
We can’t even walk with it
Or drive with it …
We can’t sit with ourselves ….
God help us.