Posted on Friday, May 4, 2012
in Family, Jobs, Rantings
Maybe it was the Accidental Terrorist’s worsening spinal condition and impending stream of surgical confusion coupled with the erratic swings of his emotional state caused by the masses of weird chemicals he consumes to control his pain. Maybe it was the worry that Laughingboy stops breathing at night time and investigations into his sleep apnea aren’t being investigated quickly enough. It could have been exhaustion from the parent’s committee and its efforts to raise such huge amounts of cash at the cost of mine and its other member’s time and energy, or it could have been the looming bills and the bank letters that go with them that state the bleedin’ obvious fact that there isn’t enough money in any of our bank accounts to cover same. I would thank them by hand-grenade by return-post, but I don’t have any hand-grenades. Two-year-old’s tandrums. Demanding daughters. Nothing for dinner. No fuel for the car. Old shoes with holes in. Not being able to have a peaceful crap on my own. The fact that our house has possibly been condemned. The beckoning but ultimately evil bottle of scotch whiskey…
Maybe it was all of it all at once, triggered by something irrelevant such as running-out of firelighters, or the cat crapping on my duvet. Something snapped, either way.
Whatever it was, it led to my sitting in the middle of a rain-soaked field screaming from the pit of my soul for some sort of answer, or release, or solution. It felt good, and one can’t exactly go about doing that sort of thing in front of one’s children without eyebrows being raised and strange kiddie questions being addressed to teachers the next day, hey.
Fields are great inventions.
Fat old Wouldye dog didn’t care. He just chased butterflies and relished the sniffings. I felt happy for him.
I stood up eventually, and found a river by which I stood for quite some time.
It amazed me. I felt so jealous of it, the way it just kept on flowing. No matter what was placed in its path, it just kept going with an unstoppable energy. Determination. And it seemed so enthusiastic with it. Gushing. Rushing. Pushing to get there. Uninterrupted flow.
I drew energy from it, and wondered what drove it, besides obvious gravitational pull. There was something else, something that I was missing. Natural order perhaps. Where the hell is my natural order? What is pulling me to an end? What have I got to be so enthusiastic about?
I wish I was a river. I wish I could see my purpose and be so determined. I wish something would pull me, and not have me struggle towards it. And what is it? And where does it end?
Rivers don’t have questions, they just are.
I wish I could just…