2.156. Mercury in Retrograde

Plus ca change, right?

I am starting to believe that this phrase more applies to the innermost workings of the machine that is human existence and not the trappings of the machine that we call life. In other words, it is about the big picture things. There will always be a king, people will always praise him and others will always want to take the throne. Good luck and bad luck will always cycle, though how we see that cycle and what it applies to swings as freely as a ball at the end of a rope.

I used to get gremlins. There would come a period of time when anything powered by electricity would break, often horribly. That long and sad period of my life has all but expired (I can attribute my periodic car issues to a period piece automobile). It has been replaced by emotional valleys that strike without warning and can be all but crippling. So I guess it is a version of the same thing. The machine continues to spin and I continue to be chewed up by the gears from time to time and spat out on the street where I stand, dust myself off, and continue to have a pretty solid life.

 

Some Thoughts:

  1. So, the depression is real. It comes in waves. It mostly centers around the idea of where I am in life and where I want to be. Everything feels so close but entirely unobtainable. It feels like I am looking at the life I want from the wrong side of an electrified fence. It is also true that I am not living a life that benefits me or invigorates me. It feels like so much of this life is changing, and in a way ending. I’m growing old and the vestiges of what I thought life would be are dying off like fall leaves.

2.155

misplaced the power cord for my mac. Those things are rather specific and the power remaining is rather short, therefore I don’t expect to be able to use this computer much longer. Maybe I’ll get these ten minutes.

It should be a good 10.

I have a lot of thoughts that are all scrambled together like so many busted eggs. I’m writing this at night again, but not so late night that my brain is closer to the fried egg from Nancy Regan era PSA’s. I’m doing just fine. That is in fact the best I can offer in terms of how I am doing. Fine. My partner has been using the word extensively and I’ve come to recognize it as, “everything is working, but beneath the surface life is not as great as it could or should be, but I am dealing with it and I am going to continue dealing with it indefinitely.” So, yeah.

Fine.

Except indefinitely feels like a death sentence as much as the past month has felt the way I imagine the little dot on a hearbeat monitor feels as it leaves the residue of a squiggly line hopping up and down. Happy. sad. Happy. Each jolt punctuated by the actions of others around me in sequence with my own metronomic mood swings.

I woke up sad, but found my way to happy. All it took was thinking about the love of my life.