“Gloom, Doom,
...va-va-voom!
. . . boom.”
...and then I spin out a long, but sad essay, because - procrastination.
...or - is this? - attempting to shame myself to avoid s
I don’t even want to talk about it, right now - definitely not on Facebook. I don’t want to be less than zero. I don’t want to be motivationally spoken into action.
Fuck! Long essays be damned - nobody
Fuck^2! All or nothing statements... tunneling vision... maybe I need to stare at a flower or a candle or anything to pull my mind’s focus off of the shitpool that it wants to drown in...
Boo, negative self talk. Boo, drama... maybe ghosting is the answer? Doubtful that that isolation would be healthy...
People offering to meet up, to be an ear... then silence. I suspect it’s just become a knee-jerk social response: “oh, you’re feeling sad? I’ll always be there!” (Crickets) ...like we’re fed a message by society that we have to be 100% available, to anyone, anywhere - in order to save a life! - yet we’ve become so ensnared by our media and our things that 100% is simply impossible. <end rant?>
<end monologue?>
What do people want, in their friends?
- life skills, like changing the oil or cooking
- a critical eye, “tempered by humor”, to make the person’s flaws apparent
- “deep conversations”, or maybe just a sign of a complex model of the universe
- a willingness to fight, to take a stand, against “shared injustices” (But, god forbid, if we should differ on an issue)
- “shared interests and hobbies”...?
Maybe, everyone’s “bubbles of harmony” are just getting too restrictive - I don’t know... maybe, everyone else is getting cast off as too weird or too different... maybe...?
<pause, monologue - first draft>
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