Black Friday

It's Black Friday, one of the most superficial and empty days of the year- at a glance. But then, what really makes it different from the rest of the year? The sales. That's it. The rest is the same. American culture obsessed with mostly useless meaningless shit, because there's nothing else. And there really isn't. Entire communities, vast stretches of the American landscape are littered with malls and shops, built around them, in fact.

They say everyone gets depressed around the holidays. Is it that we all realize we can't afford all of this shit we buy to fill the void, or is it the really depressing part the realization that that's what we're doing- buying to fill an empty space? The holidays bring to light both the richness and the lack. It's enough to make one sick to be so rich with material crap in one of the richest countries in the world, and yet utterly vacant- spiritually, psychologically, whatever you want to say.

I try and keep positive about the holidays. No money and the realization that that doesn't even touch real poverty, another year in pathetic, fearful solitude, etc etc...well, it makes some parts of it hard. All one can do is close one's eyes and jump into the current. This holiday beast is bigger than I am. I'm along for the ride, and it isn't so bad with your eyes closed- over in a jiff, and leaving you wondering what the big deal was at all. I'll be coughing up tinsel til May, picking things up off the dresser wondering who in hell buys things like that when it was probably me in the first place, wondering when the last time was that I talked to family, wondering who even cares anyway.

I'm swimming dangerously near the shores of apathy. Shit, I'm probably there and don't even know. I don't care enough to look closely. My thoughts are dim gray and thinly spread over everything, dilluted, essentially nothing. I'm thinking I've got life set up alright at the moment, but right now I don't care much for it. I'm doing what I am doing because it's what there is in front of me to do. There doesn't even seem to be much choice involved. I look at that long stretch of life in front of me and wonder how in hell I'll even manage to fill it up.

Technically I like it though. I mean. It's working ok, so no complaints. No major ones. Nothing to get one off one's ass.

I've been thinking a lot about death lately, or maybe just non existence. I get so tired of nothing I wonder what it would be like to sleep THAT deep. Just vague wonder. It's obvious that those sorts of things don't cure the desire to escape nothing. Deepest sleep, death. That's nothing, and that's what I'm tired of.

Oh,my, the circles.

Lol.

Anyway.

Off to think of something plastic I'll be needing this December.