Gee it's hard to describe my blog to someone who hasn't read any of it. I was trying to do just that last night. If I were to describe what it's about to anyone it would sound a total bore. It probably is! But let me pretend it's not for just one moment.
See. I notice little things. I wonder if others do the same. That's what I do here. I write about the little things. We all would love to involve our time in the big things I know- but the little things really rule our days. I don't understand why so many people think their lives are so important- so large- so well, up there with the world leaders. I can't see it. I guess they are so under the hammer all the time they don't really step back like I do and have a good bloody look at themselves. And they think because they are under the hammer all the time then of course it follows that their life is very very big and important. They don't see that I see their lives as just a mess of over commitment. They can't sniff the roses- they don't have time.
And ya know what? I don't feel guilty in having the time to look at life in the way I do while they battle on. And why the fuck should I. Well, I am fortunate enough to have had just enough failures in my life to send me straight to the bottom. Down here there ain't that much to do and I figure that's where God would have me so here I am- happy and hard at work. Besides, somebody's gotta do it. And somebody's gotta take note. Otherwise the world just goes ever faster and out of control to the common person like me and you. And no-one calls it to account. Whatever "it" is.
So I do this thing of observation and comment here and I tell those around me I do this thing and they read my blog and they look at me in a sort of desperately puzzled and powerless way. I have no idea whether they agree with what I do or not. They are truly non-committal. Because they are caught in the web of their lives of over commitment, of busyness, of sprinting through life, of breeding their offspring and then pandering to their every need, of keeping order in chaos, of earning to keep themselves and others alive. They have their heads down and they are hard at it. Hard at it. And I don't mean to be uncharitable to their situation in saying this. It is an observation--that's all. And I don't condone laziness. We all are busy really myself included. I'm busy. I'm looking and reporting what I see to a world that really would prefer that maybe I didn't but rather put my head up my arse just as they do. It really does keep me busy. And no-one pays me to do it. I do it anyway. I am therefore charitable- don't you think?
But sometimes a person ( me in this case) slips through the net and scurries around like a bewildered rat. And like in the Matrix, sees the setup of our existence for what it really is. And doesn't complain about what he sees. But more laughs at it. Because that's the truly appropriate response to all this living business. Much of it is truly laughable. And if you see it any other way then you, my friend, are truly fucked. Because all that's left then are the tears and the desperation.
And on your death bed when your toil is finally coming to an end- should you have any remaining energy- laugh just before you go. In fact make your last breath a laugh.