You should leave now. This is going to be one of those self-indulgent, depressing, navel-gazing posts completely focussed upon me and having little in the way of fortifying virtual vitamins or essential literary carbohydrates with which the reader might sustain themselves as part of their recommended daily allowance of bloggage.
Life, as it turns out, really can end up as just one damn thing after another – which is something that i’m guessing most of us can tolerate for a while, and will even have the stoicism to put up with for an extended period at times, but eventually, inevitably, there is going to come a point where the sheer tedium of the whole humdrum business is going to finally erode the last of whatever reserves of customer satisfaction we may have stored up. That, my friends, is exactly where i find myself – life is failing to come up to expectations, the product is not what appears on the packet label and i’d like a refund, please.
Yes, another birthday looms, but that’s not the source of this – it’s been more of a slow burn over the past couple of years, and now it’s coming to the point where i’m really just fed up with the inescapable fact that this really is, all there is. It makes me feel unutterably despondent – a truly miserable feeling of being an unexpected item in the bagging area of life… it really sucks.
If you were to ask me to explain, i’d have to say that there is something that is lacking – and i do mean lacking, rather than missing: it’s not that there’s a something-shaped gap in my life that needs filling, that’s absolutely not the case. All the gaps have been nicely filled, sanded down and received a good plaster skim to hide the seams, thank you very much. i have very much been there, done that, obtained the t-shirt and, in some cases, grown out of it – explored everything from carnal to spiritual, intellectual to inane, and indulgent to philanthropic – sometimes to extremes – but, at the end of it all, i’ve slowly coasted to an unmistakeable and quite definite standstill. No, it’s not the gaps that need filling, if anything what’s missing is a coat of emulsion, or maybe some flowery wallpaper to cover the blandness and general swathe of emptiness that still remains. It’s all very, very frustrating.
Should i stop to contemplate my lot, it doesn’t look terribly attractive… it’s a cross between a train wreck, ‘Groundhog Day‘ and ‘After Hours‘, but without the interconnectedness. It’s a landscape of stalled projects, abandoned plans and lost causes – not because i don’t possess the wit to see anything through, or that i don’t have the time, but simply because nothing brings any sense of satisfaction, let alone achievement. It’s rather like having an inexplicable craving for chocolate, splurging out on a bucketload of the stuff and then realising that you really can’t be bothered to gorge on it, (and, even if you did, it would be hopelessly unsatisfying).
And now, i have no idea what else to write. i shall stop.
Pass the tequila, please!
I know everything that shine ain’t always gold
I’ll be fine once I get it, yeah
I’ll be good
Lissie – Pursuit Of Happiness