I can relate. I feel empty after today. It’s like the noose is tightening. I don’t know anything at this point. I’m without the dark blue liquid wisdom of the Magic 8-Ball. My desk is now only covered in work-related garbage and Japanese language books. I need to get out. Sometimes I think that going back to my parents might be a viable option. I know, overall, it has the appearance of failure, that I couldn’t make it on my own. But right now – it feels like a consolation prize. If it does get that bad, that I have to cross the Antipodes back to where I come from, then I will burn every possible bridge I can here. I’ve wasted a lot of opportunities, but no way am I going to miss pissing off potentially thousands of people in one go. It may be criminal, but it feels like a crime to let that one go.
The rain is coming down in waves, like it’s trying to reach that brass ring, but comes up short. The thunder occasionally rips across and grabs hold of the sky, and my attention. But the thunder is just a follow-up for some mediocre rain. I want it to storm. I want sheets of constant rain and hale hurled from the heavens. I want nothing to be safe from this storm. I want to see cars overturned, streets flooded and every smartass huddled in corners praying it would all stop. I want be scared and terrified. It’s better to feel something than nothing. Better dying terrified and alone, than just alone. Never doubt the wisdom of a softer world.
I hate summer. I enjoy the daylight hours, but I feel that 6 am to 9 pm is beyond the joke. I never sleep well in this season. Too many dreams about parasites and crazy dead people trying to teach me how to cook. The heat I get used to, but it’s everyone’s sunny dispositions that really get to me. I feel like punching them. Just crowning them right in their smug faces. Winter I excel. The hate in my heart keeps me warm.
Finally it decides to rain. Starting in spurts and then with the wind blowing, water is coming in from all directions. Thunder now tears across the sky, lightning flashes like small atomic blasts in the darkening clouds. Suddenly everything electric is out in a flash, lights, fridge and television. All dead and gone. Nothing left to do but wait out the storm. I sit back, pour myself another glass of Ringbolt and stare a the black screen of the television. My shades on, even in this twilight, the future can be bright. I invite the destruction of everything. And why not? You wait a lifetime, only to watch your own life to fall apart and not see possibly the final chapter of the human race. Think of the countless generations that waited for a day like this. Just to say: “This is It. About Fucking Time.” Screw heaven. That can wait. Damn Hell. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for. This is thousands of years of cultural indoctrination, piles of guilt and sin and condemnation. This is pollution and populace and past times. We screwed up this world, and everyone from the hypocritical preachers to blasphemous scientists are saying we have screwed with this world and we are going to pay the terrible price. But I ask when? The bill never arrives. They give a due date. You watch the mailbox. Nothing. Yet. Right now this is the perfect for me. Alone. Sitting in the dark. Getting drunk. It’s dark now and my shades are still on. I wonder if these will be on my face when the future turns to a giant dark wave of pyroclastic ash? Hmmm. The thunder is gone. The only lights available are the minute flashes of lightning from the clouds as they disappear across the skyline.
With the storm gone and darkness settling in, I decide to lie back on the couch and take a nap. No power means no thing to do but sleep like my ancestors. And that is exactly when the electricity bring everything back to life. Lights flash. Noises beep and buzz loudly, announcing their rebirth. If there is no rest for the wicked, then I am certainly one of them. Time to get back to work.