Art requires inspiration for most to produce a piece of any real value. This is at least the belief I hold as it pertains to my writing (art). It has now been close to half a year and still I lack that spark to create something relatively meaningful in my eyes. This is the 2020 curse, the further validation that this year is just fucked and along with it is my passion to create. Some have said that darkness sparks the truest art, and while I may agree with that, 2020 is the exception. It is truly bewildering how my outlook on this “pandemic” was so blindly optimistic at first; seeing this as the rebirth of our nation and a “great awakening”. Oh, how blind I was to the obvious truth that the only ones awake are those fully aware that America is the greatest circus the world has ever seen. I prefer to stay away from topics like politics, in fact I have prided myself in being happily unaware of the political landscape…yet this year has just been different. The metaphor I can best use to describe this year is this: I am the wide eyed infant eagerly awaiting my spoon fed meal of nutrient rich mush, the social and economic landscape is the batshit crazy baby sitter making airplane noises with the spoon, creatively coercing me to open my mouth for a bite. The only difference in this metaphor is the plane is coming in at 300mph like a missile awaiting to blow through the back of my head as if it were September 11th all over again.
Stop and think about that…
This is literally another disaster of epic proportions unfolding before the American populace for what? At this point I don’t even care what the point is, the fact is people are jobless, American’s who sought after their “dream” have seen their hard work and go up in flames at the hands of those who call the shots. Mental health problems and substance abuse rates are most likely sky rocketing because people like myself can’t make sense of the world yet clearly see that chaos is the motive. It is nearly impossible to engage in conversation without some type of hostile divide in beliefs, people are afraid to simply talk about real issues now for the sake of inciting a riot or having their lives “cancelled”. I feel like an extra in a blockbuster thriller that is an absolute three ringed circus sideshow. If the rapture is going to happen…I think it would be a good time for it bless us with it’s holy presence.
To the 3 people who actually read this, do not be alarmed at my cynicism. I am not a proponent for mass genocide, I am not ready to take my life out of misery, I am simply putting it out there that my disdain for the world is more clear now than ever. I know that in my little bubble of a world things can be ok. However, I am someone who has an uncanny ability to feel the energy around me and absorbs it. There is such a disruption in the frequency of life right now that I wish there would be an EMP blast to equalize everything. This is where my frustration lies, that I welcome a form of destruction to bring the world back down to a state of regulation. I am not God, and I do not get to call that shot…and it is probably a good thing.
I resent my masters and their corrupt pursuit of power at the expense of the little guy. I resent not having the ability to change the world. I resent feeling like making a little change in my immediate community is futile. I guess this is the essence of my lack of peace…giving too much attention to the resentments I have for the world surrounding me. I know this season will pass in time, and I will find peace again. Vacation is only 8 days away…and I can remove myself from the world and connect with nature and friends. The world will most likely remain the same, however I can at least pretend it’s all good for a few weeks.
Thanks for coming to my TED talk. I have yet to make sense of the madness.