What happens when it's all normal? What happens when it makes sense because it makes no sense? I think many of us have gotten a little too used to the news. I think we are used to not getting the point, used to letting it slide on by without really looking at it, used to the drivel that those higher up spew, used to lies everywhere. When did the virginity of our eyes get punctured, so that everything could get in without a second thought? When did it become that something had to be so utterly bizarre to get our attention? Or in the other direction, when did it become so that a simple thing like an honest man become such a rare quantity worthy of our complete and undivided attention? Were we ever children, or were we born cynical, and had those former memories pumped in?
When was it when we stopped dreaming of a better world? Or are there some of you still out there who do? Are you a myth or what, you dreamers? A lot of us start out idealistic, then something happens along the way: there is this thing out there that overtakes us, chews us up until all that's left is a creature of forced practicality, of inspirationless desire. I dunno. It might just be when you start having to pay the bills, it's not fun and games anymore. Money suddenly is not a toy, and time is that thing that you have too much of in all the wrong places, and not enough where you want it. And so, what happens when it's all routine? What happens when the senseless is our logic? Myself, I don't think I'll ever get used to it: that's one of those "curse that's a blessing" type of deals.
Every once in a while, I have to kick myself in the ass. Not only because I deserve it, but because if I don't, I start blending into the wallpaper. I tell myself, the only difference between me and them is that I know I'm an idiot. And that's the only difference. Yeah.
