I really need to get laid,
But anxiety and depression have got their hooks in me deep...
Executive disorder keeps me chained...
Risk is daunting...
Just stepping outside the house
For anything other than work
Or foraging for supplies
Feels unthinkable...
Could really use some human touch,
But the thought of baring my soul
Even one more time to someone new
Feels like a taser to the chest...
And just hooking up,
Even though I'm not above it,
Means using emotional resources...
And I'm running on empty right now.
One foot in front of the other...
I know anything can happen at any time...
Fortunes can change,
And something can fall right into your lap...
It's happened before...
It can happen again...
But I'm not going to get my hope's up.
"It's a terrible strain to be alive."
That last line was from Kerouac.
It's sometimes hard to be simple happy
Given the world that we've got.
Wonky brain chemicals don't help.
The belly is starting to grow.
A couple more teeth should probably come out.
Time and money seem to be in short supply,
But there's always an excuse to not get up and out.
It's not that I'm picky about physical looks:
Short, tall, skinny, chubby, black, white...
Person, man, woman, camera, TV...
(Yep, hard to be happy given the world that we've got...)
Everything is too transactional...
There's a price to pay for time spent...
Closeness has a cost...
And distance has a cost...
I know that I am everyone,
And that everyone is me,
We're all just little sparks of one uniform consciousness
Trying our best to think we're unique...
"I am he as you are she as you are me,
And we are all together..."
So, we chose this messy place as our home...
Somehow, we wanted this chaos...
Knowing all and being all...
I suppose that could get boring...
Separation from our spiraling thoughts
Might have seemed like a good idea, at first...
But, as above, so below,
Those spiraling thoughts still get you...
They're built into the template...
They're endemic to the source...
It's all just a distraction
That consciousness constructs...
The highest of the highs,
And the lowest of the lows...
We all blindly race around
The surface tension of the bubble,
No matter what we think we know,
Philosophizing about what it all means...
Well, meaning is up to you...
You have to create it...
In general, it's just about recording experience...
The source has no other intentions...
There is no great plan...
There are no requirements or obligations...
Your pleasure and your pain
Are the goal, in and of themselves...
If you want to be good, then be good...
If you want to be evil, be evil...
We all get recycled the same way, regardless...
The character arc is variable...
There are no set Cosmic rules...
And other than perception being subjective
With consciousness building the stage set,
All experience is food for the One...
You're being a good dog
No matter what you choose to do...
The world can be your oyster,
But it's still a terrible strain to be alive...
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