31 May 2016

Thoughts on the blank after yesterblank

Not everything is always bad. Not everything always goes wrong. Nearly everything is bad; most things go wrong—but not all. And that’s where hope comes from. Is hope a good thing or a bad thing? Is it wise or foolish to hope? Obviously if it’s possible to act and thereby realize what is hoped for, it would be foolish to merely hope without acting. But let’s imagine that an auto repair shop treats you unfairly—is it wise or foolish to hope that that company fails?

Chronic wasting disease. West Nile virus. AIDS. Ebola. Zika virus. Mad cow disease.

Nuclear bombs are expensive, I assume. Where do we get the money to pay for these things? I say “we” as if I myself have something to do with it. By “we” I mean this country—my country: the United States of America (is it truly mine?) …I guess they pay for weapons with tax dollars. I’m proud to pay taxes, when the funding goes to aid others—food, shelter, medical blessings, school—but I don’t like when the tax money goes toward arsenal.

My thoughts today are bland and low, because I’m nervous about the roof workers coming to our house. The association that governs our apartment complex sent us a letter saying: “Beware, for on May 31 your roof will get replaced.” There’s no reason this should worry me; but I tend to believe that nothing can ever end happily. That’s why I began this entry by assuring myself: Not everything is always bad. But my prediction is that they’ll do something careless with a power cord and end up starting a fire.

How do I appear to others? When I’m outside, outdoors, out-and-about, gallivanting… When strolling down the boardwalk with my sweetheart, I always wonder, regarding passersby: What do they think of me? I think that they think I’m a computer nerd: I look like someone who works in “the tech sector”—it’s a fact; I should face it. This is doubly hurtful, for the only fad I hate more than computers is finance. I wouldn’t mind if I looked like, say, an English professor, because I love the sublime… Or, better yet, if my appearance resembled a poet…

I wouldn’t be comfortable wearing a wetsuit because others could then see my body shape. It’s not that I was badly manufactured; but I’m not perfect, and I don’t like the human shape in general. I mean, I like it on others: I think most humans look great; but it’s not right for me. I’d rather look like a…

That thought is hard to complete. If given my choice of body type, I’m not sure what I’d choose… Thinking of all of the possibilities, I’m a kid in a candy store… I like antelope a lot… I like squids… I like dolphins…

But I think I’d go with heron. A great blue heron. At least for today.

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