low battery

I’ve been waking up around 3 a.m. lately. Then I toss and turn all night until I have to get ready for work. There’s no good reason for it. It feels cruel some days, but that’s just the way it is and there’s no going around it. 3 a.m. and at the snap of a finger, I’m awake.

The first thing it reminds me of is in the movie the Exorcism of Emily Rose, though I don’t smell burning or the presence of strange invisible intruders. There’s nothing evil about it besides having to toss and turn the next few hours before I make myself pretty and presentable. And I highly doubt higher powers would want a person with my track record to be martyred for any reason. I have no ties to anything, not even my own past. Things are live and learn, and shitty things would become experiences to be learned.

I never did aspire to be much of anything. Not to be rich or famous, or financially well off. I just wanted to be okay. It seemed the only sensible aspiration to me at my youth and even now. I’m not a pessimist, nor do I just focus on the bad things, nor am I one of those bleak realists whose philosophy is, “why bother.” I severed the ties to my past and hold nothing against myself in regards to the future because they, along with the what ifs have never happened or already have. Everyone’s got demons, but not many of us become pals with them.

I don’t think I’m alone when I say I’m simply waiting for something, and the great philosopher Tom Petty said, “waiting is the hardest part.” So here I am, doing strange random things to see if any dormant passions within fulfill themselves. I went rock climbing, to a renaissance fair, busked in a subway, ran a marathon, fed the helpless and homeless, worked a suicide hotline, coached illiterate kids, started a book club, counseled crap relationships, etc. And nothing. I get nothing. Have I become jaded? Jaded by what? Is there something wrong with me? My perspective? Hippies say your perspective manifests your reality, but I gave it a chance, a real good chance. And so, these hippies don’t know what the fuck they’re talking about and never have. Just an idea. A dream. I knew of a guy who had a dream once. Dude got shot.

Patience by Guns n’ Roses eventually ends.

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