Less Thinkin'

Future: Something that will happen in moments yet to come.

You know what?  I don't have the slightest idea what's going on most of the time and I don't have the slightest idea what to do about that.

When someone asks me how I'm doing I usually reply: "Trying to stay out of my own way."  People usually chuckle.  People don't know that I'm not kidding.  I really have no idea what to do about anything.  I get what I want, I don't get what I want, I'm happy about this or I'm not happy about that - in no clear relation to what the reality . . . you know . . . actually is - and the funny thing is I lose interest, in a ball o' confusion, in short order, anyway.  I'm bored with the shit that made me happy and I'm frustrated with the shit that doesn't make me happy and I have no perspective about how this irrational view of my past should impact the illogical possibilities of my future.

No one ever asks me what I think they should do anymore.  I don't think I'm fooling anyone.  I think they're saying, behind my back: "That dude doesn't have a fucking clue, man."  Honestly, people are starting to say it to my face.

I called Willie this morning.  

"How you doin', man?" he said.

I started right in with a monotonic monologue, not bothering to dispense with any social niceties: "My lower back is sore and it's cloudy and SuperK isn't treating me with the respect that I deserve and our president is an idiot and . . .  you had enough?" I asked.

"I quit listening after the second thing, which I've already forgotten," he said.

I'd like to be more consistent in my recollection of the fact that I don't know what's best for me. I am a bad recollector in this regard.  I have very little ability to predict how things are going to work out.  They work out.

I should do more trudgin' and less philosophizin'.