One question has been plaguing me for months now. What's more, I feel like I'm in one of those weird music videos that fans of the rock band Tool have created, which can be found on YouTube but have no real meaning? My life, at the moment, seems meaningless. Don't get me wrong, I mean that quietly my whole existence, and that of most people I know, is based on the following schedule and rhythm: wake up, get cleaned up, make breakfast, take care of your kids (if you have any), go to work 8 or more hours from Monday to Saturday, and then, totally devoid of soul, go to sleep?
I'm sorry, I really am, forgive me for putting it so coldly and cruelly, but let's agree that it doesn't matter where you are... Most probably, you will find many similarities with your own life. .... If repeating this routine isn't taking away from your quality, I honestly don't know what to tell you... And yes, I suppose this is just another complaint, but it's no less true that the rhythm of life that we maintain is not really beneficial and doesn't bring much satisfaction... It's something that even in the mornings keeps me pensive for hours at a time. No matter how many cups of coffee I drink, I don't feel fulfilled.
Essentially, these lines are born of that fact, as peculiar as it is bitterly repetitive. I don't remember episodes in my life where surprise or genuine happiness accompanied me. And I don't think I suffer from depression or a predisposition to melancholy. I know that adulthood is bitter, cold, distant and ridiculously self-sacrificing, but what I'm saying is; at what point did our unique existence in the Universe become like that? Doesn't it happen to you? That the few moments where you have some free time, or you are deadly tired or without any mood or spirit at all, for absolutely nothing?
Oh, how wrong I was in my childhood... When I used to watch Sailor Moon and admire the girls, I longed to be them. Big, powerful, beautiful, independent, happy... Nothing I know has any relation to that fantasy. My daughter is my only real achievement in this life, and I am tormented by not knowing how to stop her from repeating the same boring, repetitive, subtle but bluntly exhausting path of living a life through repetition.... No matter where I am, I think we all have the same point of view about living most of the productive and conscious hours of our existence to make money, survive on what little we earn, and wait to die....
Thousands of millions without social security, without health care. Inequity, inequality and the cost of a life that seems designed to destroy the fire that dwells (naturally) in our souls.... Some even defiantly and arrogantly say that the "only thing really worth living for is working. As if our function in our unique existence were inescapably linked to making someone richer who will never care about us, while we pick up the crumbs of our production and try not to starve in the attempt....
One more Saturday, where the working day is over, and where "at last" I have come home "to rest" .... It is but a prologue of less than 48 hours to restart (never before has the pleonasm been better used) the bitterness once again. I wish I could go and complain about this until I'm totally hoarse, but it's stupid and above all, sterile. We all know what I write about here, all of us without exception. Some have even normalised it to the point where they choose everything but thinking.... I... Well, I haven't been able to get to that point... Do I envy that possibility? Sometimes, yes, sometimes, I don't know...
