I cannot believe where I am right now. Why did I not leave this place years ago? Could that have saved me?

The enormous and apathetic population coupled with the unrelenting weather during summer should have pushed me out long ago. I am still here. The fuck? Why did I do this? Perhaps a better question would be: Why did I sit on my ass and not do anything?

This realization comes along with another related to the season. The beautiful and chilling Master Winter is upon us. Cool and comfortable, that one. Far detached from the hellish flame of summer. That entire section of the year is only useful to provide a stark contrast to the lovely barren and dead landscape that is the result of the cold (not much here, of course, but still much more comfortable than the heat). Well, another fucking failure that is proceeding to push me down. Fucking failure.

Driving in to work this morning I realized that all of the built-up feelings toward the end of the calendar year are floating away. I am at this moment dropping off. Just falling into the knowledge that the apparent happiness and glee of the final two months of '08 are almost gone. No more glee after that - just work, therapy, damned little booze, and the same gigantic machine chewing up my ambition, outlook, and comfort. That machine is working its way into the history books as the worst within which I could have placed myself. Both in front and behind are those souls whose purpose has eluded them. Their need to control, consume, destroy, and entertain will be my undoing. Mine. Not theirs, as it should fall. The crushing and grinding machine is made up of them and their uncaring and unending blindness. I continually fail to understand from where the apathy and impatience comes. How can such a terrible disposition take over so many souls? They do not know. They do not even attempt to know. All is well from their view. All is well as long as the fridge is full, the car is shiny, and the neighbors are envious. All is well. Everything in its place. Everything neat, tidy, groomed, landscaped, polished, and oh so fucked up and denied on the inside. Just so fucked up. The universe within which they dwell is just one lot, one house, one family, and but one need. Their own. Theirs. So sad.

My need to disrupt has never been so compelling.

As much as that need is killing me inside, I am powerless. Completely paralyzed in my position just now. I feel it ruining me like my own hellish and dramatic actions of the mid-decade. That type of feeling is not something easily overcome, and as a result the exit is illuminated and glowing with the warmth of escape. I wish I could take such. I wish I could embrace that exit, feel its security and comfort, and leave this place for all time.

Just go and forget it all.

But, that is not to be. I am forced to continue forward (or some such direction that is not to the rear) and sift through the detritus searching for something...

Well, I am angry, disappointed, uncomfortable, insecure, consumed with pain and guilt, and falling into a pit of never knowing what I could have been nor where. And now what remains is a life with them. Those fucking people. This is not where I could have been.

Could have.

Was not.

Did not.

Did nothing.

Well, fuck me. I am no one anyway.

I need a drink.