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Dec. 30th, 2004 04:34 pmGod Damn.
Its strange how 20 minutes of unrelated strangeness can be almost soul crushing. All unrelated, but emotionally strong, string of things.
I ventured out to the library today to spend some quality time with my computer, now that my baby is back in my arms but still have no connection where I live.
Since it was raining, I decided to take a bus, which in turn, decided to take 20+ minutes to show up. I sat at the stop with a woman, talking about the two bums on the nod on the bench of the stop across the street. Now a perfectly normal and healthy looking woman, she told me of how she is now long time sober after a longer time battling drugs and turning tricks. Not an untypical story for being on Polk Street and, though not a pretty story, mostly a happy one for the ending. Someone who got out.
When finally in the library, in the elevator, the fire alarm goes off and the elevator sticks between the 2nd and 3rd floor. It’s enough to wake me up and get my hairs up a bit. When the elevator starts up again and I get off, I find it was only that elevator and no one in the building had any idea that it happened.
I start up my computer and winamp. The first song that comes on stabs through my heart and comes out my stomach. I don't know if anyone else has experienced a strong, emotional night while on heightened by a specific substance so much so that when certain things come up and remind you of it, the response is stronger than the original feeling, doubled with longing and some regret. It hurt so bad that I almost could not move to turn it off, which I had to do immediately or I may not recover anytime today.
This beginning to my day only to open my long neglected email to lists of tragedy of people who are my friends and some I just know. One who was in Thailand and gave a first hand account of the death and pain that they experienced. One, closer to home and just as painful.
Already set off in a dark emotional direction by my own trivial experiences, the effect of these stories that would already be strong within is creeping all along the surface of my being. I can not quite shake it.
Going on with what would be productive for me feels paltry in comparison. A mere trifling while other things of real consequence go on in my back yard and a thousand worlds away.
I feel sad and insignificant and like a helpless fool because I can not think of what to do to help any of these people anywhere. I am too busy trying to make sure I have a roof, food and electricity to spend my time to help, and am too poor to help any other way. It makes my existence feel so small because I myself do not know what to do and can not even help myself at times. Even now, I speak too much of myself.
The one light in it all was the mail from my friend who is a new father with a 2 month old boy. An unlikely, but wonderful dad who is as happy as can be being drooled on, changing diapers, and realizing how deep a meaning a gurgled "Goo" can hold.
Its strange how 20 minutes of unrelated strangeness can be almost soul crushing. All unrelated, but emotionally strong, string of things.
I ventured out to the library today to spend some quality time with my computer, now that my baby is back in my arms but still have no connection where I live.
Since it was raining, I decided to take a bus, which in turn, decided to take 20+ minutes to show up. I sat at the stop with a woman, talking about the two bums on the nod on the bench of the stop across the street. Now a perfectly normal and healthy looking woman, she told me of how she is now long time sober after a longer time battling drugs and turning tricks. Not an untypical story for being on Polk Street and, though not a pretty story, mostly a happy one for the ending. Someone who got out.
When finally in the library, in the elevator, the fire alarm goes off and the elevator sticks between the 2nd and 3rd floor. It’s enough to wake me up and get my hairs up a bit. When the elevator starts up again and I get off, I find it was only that elevator and no one in the building had any idea that it happened.
I start up my computer and winamp. The first song that comes on stabs through my heart and comes out my stomach. I don't know if anyone else has experienced a strong, emotional night while on heightened by a specific substance so much so that when certain things come up and remind you of it, the response is stronger than the original feeling, doubled with longing and some regret. It hurt so bad that I almost could not move to turn it off, which I had to do immediately or I may not recover anytime today.
This beginning to my day only to open my long neglected email to lists of tragedy of people who are my friends and some I just know. One who was in Thailand and gave a first hand account of the death and pain that they experienced. One, closer to home and just as painful.
Already set off in a dark emotional direction by my own trivial experiences, the effect of these stories that would already be strong within is creeping all along the surface of my being. I can not quite shake it.
Going on with what would be productive for me feels paltry in comparison. A mere trifling while other things of real consequence go on in my back yard and a thousand worlds away.
I feel sad and insignificant and like a helpless fool because I can not think of what to do to help any of these people anywhere. I am too busy trying to make sure I have a roof, food and electricity to spend my time to help, and am too poor to help any other way. It makes my existence feel so small because I myself do not know what to do and can not even help myself at times. Even now, I speak too much of myself.
The one light in it all was the mail from my friend who is a new father with a 2 month old boy. An unlikely, but wonderful dad who is as happy as can be being drooled on, changing diapers, and realizing how deep a meaning a gurgled "Goo" can hold.
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