three things

Yesterday was a bad day, and today, while not as bad, was coated with a self-imposed melancholy. Sitting behind a steering wheel for twelve hours a day gives the mind plenty of time to ponder life's mysteries – and examine the self. I perform the latter with an unflinching eye; I dissect the thinnest strands of my personality until I have reduced myself to a low, loathsome, disgusting human being. Once I have obliterated the psychological, I turn to the physical – and I am a horrifying freak. When a stranger and I make eye contact I look for her to flinch in horror, the type of recoil that occurs when the eyes have identified something so repulsive an intrinsic reflex is touched, grabbed and shaken.

When I fall into these downward spirals I wonder if the experience affords me the opportunity to see life as it actually is. For example, yesterday I reached the conclusion/delusion that I'm simply waiting for a catalyst for suicide – all I need is that window of tragedy to open, jump, and goodbye. Perhaps a family member unexpectedly dies, or maybe I'm involved in some tragic accident. A catalyst is all I need.

Earlier tonight I had to pick up a few things at the grocery store. As I scanned the aisles I happened upon an older man, in his late 40s, balding and slightly overweight. In his grocery cart were two items: a large canister of Foldgers instant coffee and a box of Little Debbie Zebra Cakes. The man looked exasperated and I felt an immense sadness for him. And for us. Seeing no wedding band on his hand I assumed he was single, and I pictured him at home alone watching the Wheel of Fortune, slowly and softly removing a Zebra Cake from its transparent plastic wrapper and savoring each bite. On the television Pat Sajak tells a contestant that no vowels remain, and this man, Zebra Cake man, is cradled by a worn recliner and wonders how things got to be like this. Yes, I felt great heartache for him, for us, all of us. Because Zebra Cake man personified the sad, lonely existence so many of us will not only encounter, but crawl inside of and never escape.

xx