Perplexed …

dourscot

In this, the 2013th year of the Common Era, beset by bill-collectors, hounded by hounds, stared-at mercilessly by cats, plagued with weight I cannot shed, devoid of hope and happiness, I do hereby declare myself perplexed …

Fuck.  Ok, look, it sounded better in my head, ok?

The point is, I have entered what Douglas Adams once referred to as “The Long, Dark, Teatime of the Soul” … He defined it in terms of a typical sunday afternoon:

“In the end, it was the Sunday afternoons he couldn’t cope with, and that terrible listlessness that starts to set in about 2:55, when you know you’ve taken all the baths that you can usefully take that day, that however hard you stare at any given paragraph in the newspaper you will never actually read it, or use the revolutionary new pruning technique it describes, and that as you stare at the clock the hands will move relentlessly on to four o’clock, and you will enter the long dark teatime of the soul.” ~ Douglas Adams, So Long and Thanks for all the Fish

For me, however, this phenomenon seems to encompass my entire life, not merely Sunday afternoons!

I have been a student. I have been a teacher. I have been an Air Force Officer, computer Game Programmer, and Computer Consultant. I have been a friend, a lover, a husband. I was very briefly a Father (except that I wasn’t, because she had been buried 3 days before I discovered that I was her Father.)  I have been an apprentice, and a mentor. I have been a reader, and a writer. A rebel, and a conformist. A Liberal with some conservative ideas. An observer, and the observed.  A scratching post. Dog-walker. Fish feeder. Cat’s-paw. Failure, and success-story. A son, brother, friend, boyfriend, best friend, and unbefriended. I have been mysterious, and I have been open and honest. I have been both enraged, and outraged.  I have stood up for women, only to be slapped down because I have a penis.  I have stood up for people of color, only to be slapped down, because my skin is pale. I have stood up for Gays, only to be slapped down for not being Gay.

I have loved, and I have tried to hate, but failed.

“To understand all, is to forgive almost all”, James White wrote in The Dream Millenium. I have found that he was dead-on right:  I’ve been cursed with the inability to hate, to comprehend hatred, withstand hatred, endure hatred, or even to hate the hateful … I just can’t do it.

Hatred of course, tops the list of things I cannot do – but it is by no means alone on that list! Here are some others:

I cannot Tackle worth a damn. I can’t catch fish (the little bastards mock me from beneath the surface of ponds and rivers.)  I can’t stop drinking. I cannot kill babies, torture assholes, kick someone when he’s down, praise someone for shoddy work, withhold tips even when I’ve been ill-served …

I can’t stop loving the people I love – nor can I prevail upon them to love me back, or blame them for not loving me back!

I’m tired and can’t sleep. Ill but can’t stay home. Confused, but can’t let people see it.  I have faith, but can’t believe myself worthy of saving.

I am a masterful servant, and a subservient Master. I view the world through tender eyes, but seldom receive tender treatment from it.

I have cats, but endure Dogs, for Kayla’s sake.

I’m in love, but am unlovable, and unloved.

I am perplexed, and an object of perplexity.

I’m very tired. Very tired. Very tired.

Wish I could sleep!

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~ by dourscot on May 31, 2013.

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