Go Postal. (this will remain until it’s over)

I am unmotivated. Uninspired. I am going through the motions of a city life and its constant go-go-go and neglecting my souls hunger by substituting with the junk food that is rushed society.

Alas, this is my life.

I woke at 5:45 to get bagels from the only place my boss likes, got a box of Joe to go from the Star-Schmucks next door and now find myself, two hours later; at my desk plenty hopped up on a grande mocha and still doing everything possible to NOT deal with this stack of crap staring at me from the corner of my nice windowed cell.

Bouts of apathy and general disgust of society are awkwardly intertwined with a zeal for everything the universe has to offer. Frustration with the American standard is replaced by a gratefulness for shelter and the self-regulated love I intermittently find myself enveloped in. It’s the dance. Always the dance. The waltz and cha-cha and grind of our hope filled but mostly pointless reality. From stem to stern we dance across the empty waves attempting wildly to focus on the horizon through the eye-patch with the squawking of the token parrot that never ends. It’s elegant and awkward and satisfying when you get it just right and find yourself ~balanced~. What a show.

Unsure what it all means, we wander. You’re not exempt. We go through the motions with our grocery store runs and our 9 hour containments with The Man lacking a greater purpose. Look for it in volunteer work, in comedy, in children.

Does it fill you up?

Brilliant philosophy on stunning, colorful art : Steve Keene