Buttered Toast does Ben Harpers Steal My Kisses

I wonder if Joel knows all these guys.  Pretty sure I knew the father and other relatives of one.  Those crazy people helped me learn to jam.  I like this video a lot.  I may have been in that exact place up to who knows what at about that age--maybe 3 or 4 years older.  There are things I liked about the south.
Other things from that era are not so good--pain regret blablabla

The Thinning Thread

I'm a man in the wrong time, and I have no idea what is the right time.  I do know I have no fondness or yearning for the past.  Many baby boomers wish they could still be gathering in large crowds pretending to be non-conformists, blaming their parents for everything from earthquakes to starving people in far away lands, and for their own pain, failure, and general angst.

I purely despise my own generation in many ways, but there has probably never been a generation consisting of mostly sane people who weren't after what wasn't theirs.  "The greatest generation" consisted of many total jerks, and they produced the baby boomer, so they obviously did a poor job of parenting, on the whole.  Of course, wars screw people up. How could they not?  War is mass murder, even if there is no better choice.  So they come home, often pissed off that you didn't have to go to war.  No matter that you are their kids, and only 3 or 4 years old.  It' still your fault.  That was the WWII bunch.  VietNam, and most since, are so bizarre that people come back just trying to stay sane, often tying to rationalize that the war they were in made sense and was worth it.

Anyway I am the defective one, not the dumb ass baby boomers..  If I wasn't so used to feeling worthless, the way I've been feeling and thinking lately would probably alarm me.  I am like a good car with no fuel.

"Hey John, how come you never go anywhere with that car?  What a waste."  I do hear similar words, although the car was a figurative reference here.  More accurate would be, "Hey John, what is wrong with you?  You ought to be happy and thriving. What a jerk you are".  I do not know.

I do know that I am stalked by free floating sadness.  I wish I could shoot it or run it over.  It doesn't take much to see where that line of thought leads.

The ways out of this are clear, on the surface, but not so easy to execute.  Constant work of any kind is the best cure, I'm sure.  But I am compulsively stupid and I freeze in place.  Seeing idiots screw with the world and get paid to do it is momentarily motivating.  I'm smarter than most of them.  Or I once was.  And I do usually feel bad when I am doing wok that leads nowhere, and there is nothing tangible to show for it.  At least some menial work allows for immediate observable results, but if it is the same thing over and over, I get restless.  I'm always restless.

If I wasn't such an idiot...

But I am all I have.  My goal is to make it to Christmas, see my kin, and let them believe I am just the happy go lucky eccentric uncle, and whatever, who does no harm and maybe brings a laugh or two.  It will take all the energy I can muster not to just issue some loud apology for being defective and a failure and a waste of life, then hide from them forever more.

Too bad because I very much admire and love them all.  But I know the truth, and they are unwilling to acknowledge it, being somewhat polite people.  I'm not sure I can do it this year, even though I may not get another chance at everyone together, and never again in the Keys.

So goddamned maddening.   I'm losing the battle.  And I still do not know why I have this sadness war.  It has been there most of my life.  I'll see how things are in January.  Then I'll decide what to do.  For now I think I'll go pick a fight with a mountain lion.

I really am an angsty lamer.  However, I was born with an abundance of spirit.  They weren't able to completely kill it, try as they did.  Pretty close though, since "they" managed to hardwire their propaganda into my brain.  No wonder I hate authority.