I chewed off all of my finger nails last night. I knew when I was doing it, and somehow just couldn't stop myself...all but two survived. I'm mulling stuff over in my head. It won't stop.
I don't want to go to work tomorrow. I mean that I REALLY don't want to go to work tomorrow.
I feel asleep going back and forth between a murder show and a terrorist show. Such great choices to view, and I pay for this privilege each month, out of my own pocket. I find it so tasteless, the hollywood version of things that I watched myself happen. As if these actors could really capture these moments. Well they can't.
These days, I find myself not even wanting to eat any meat. A dear friend pointed out, that you can associate killing meat for food, or you can associate killing meat for sport. I believe that I have begun to associate eating meat with the latter, as it's so prevalent in our neighborhoods. It grosses me out, the little arms and legs, the flesh, and fat, and bones of something that used to be living. On occasion, with me, this has come up. I'm not a vegetarian, I just automatically associate the meat with carnage...without really even thinking much about it.
We pay more money to watch football, than discover new ideas. I have witnessed this excess, just this weekend. With the flyby of the jets before the big event. The jet flew right by my house. With the loud noise that usually is supposed to signal a tragic event, that death and destruction is forthcoming, it flew right over my house, and gave me chills. We've sent these jets to kill people, to kill other people's children, using our own children to drive them. Maybe some would find me unpatriotic, but that is not the case. I just believe that items such as fighter jets should be recognized for what they are...killing machines, not toys to show off before a game of sport. Death should not be hailed as a sport. A fear driving machine should not be seen as a cheering toy.
This weekend, I learned of a friend's death. She had been poor and in pain for some time. She was basically alone, and no one to take her in, she was in pain and still had to do odd jobs to cover the rent, as her social security just didn't cover everything. She took so many pills. And in the end, she took too many pills and died. She didn't leave a note, so it probably was an accident. I always meant to spend more time with her, and I was busy, so I didn't. Now there is no more time with her. And the building where we met has been mowed over to make room for a new highrise. I failed her. And I didn't take the time. And I wasn't helpful. And I didn't share.
And the jets flew over yesterday. I am ashamed of my people, and I am ashamed of myself.
All the fucking things we choose not to become.
I don't want to go to work tomorrow. I mean that I REALLY don't want to go to work tomorrow.
I feel asleep going back and forth between a murder show and a terrorist show. Such great choices to view, and I pay for this privilege each month, out of my own pocket. I find it so tasteless, the hollywood version of things that I watched myself happen. As if these actors could really capture these moments. Well they can't.
These days, I find myself not even wanting to eat any meat. A dear friend pointed out, that you can associate killing meat for food, or you can associate killing meat for sport. I believe that I have begun to associate eating meat with the latter, as it's so prevalent in our neighborhoods. It grosses me out, the little arms and legs, the flesh, and fat, and bones of something that used to be living. On occasion, with me, this has come up. I'm not a vegetarian, I just automatically associate the meat with carnage...without really even thinking much about it.
We pay more money to watch football, than discover new ideas. I have witnessed this excess, just this weekend. With the flyby of the jets before the big event. The jet flew right by my house. With the loud noise that usually is supposed to signal a tragic event, that death and destruction is forthcoming, it flew right over my house, and gave me chills. We've sent these jets to kill people, to kill other people's children, using our own children to drive them. Maybe some would find me unpatriotic, but that is not the case. I just believe that items such as fighter jets should be recognized for what they are...killing machines, not toys to show off before a game of sport. Death should not be hailed as a sport. A fear driving machine should not be seen as a cheering toy.
This weekend, I learned of a friend's death. She had been poor and in pain for some time. She was basically alone, and no one to take her in, she was in pain and still had to do odd jobs to cover the rent, as her social security just didn't cover everything. She took so many pills. And in the end, she took too many pills and died. She didn't leave a note, so it probably was an accident. I always meant to spend more time with her, and I was busy, so I didn't. Now there is no more time with her. And the building where we met has been mowed over to make room for a new highrise. I failed her. And I didn't take the time. And I wasn't helpful. And I didn't share.
And the jets flew over yesterday. I am ashamed of my people, and I am ashamed of myself.
All the fucking things we choose not to become.
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