Just thinkin’ about life

Just sitting here having a pint of Haagen Dazs’s white chocolate raspberry truffle and thinking about life, specifically getting older. Why do  we choose to cross the mighty Aegean daily? Are the mysteries on the other side fulfilling enough to justify the journey back to mundane shores? Did the elderly Hercules think about the…

…I just finished the entire pint of ice cream. If I see it, I eat it. It’s a sad, simple, recurring truth.

Anyway, will I be thinking about this expired pint when I am 60? Maybe. Probably not. What will I be thinking about when I am 60? Probably all of the unnecessary energy expended. Should life be about expending energy or doing all you can to preserve it? Sounds like a contradiction, no? But it’s worth considering in my view. What if it were possible to be robust and 60?

And, even if you are robust, will you be living during an era when that kind of thing isn’t frowned upon? In other words, how much of old age is reinforced by society? Is energy within humans a renewable resource? Can a polite smile lift the spirits of a man whose days were once thought to be behind him?

“I am not old. I am simply invisible.”

You are seen as a product of an era gone by. Yes, a “product.” Reduced to so many working or malfunctioning parts. A two-dimensional person long-dead, living in a 3d world.

I’m only 32, but sometimes I worry about these things. They seem irrelevant now, but they are rapidly approaching relevancy. The years are mercilessly ripped off the walls and thrown into the garbage. What do you do with that knowledge? Bury your head in the sand? If only others played along, that would be the safe bet. But they are playing to the beat of a drummer that passes you by.

There has to be a solution out there somewhere.


Broken Dreams and Pork Chop sandwiches

Another day. Another get-rich-quick-scheme. Been putzing around the internet for hours now. It’s raining, or at least pretending to. The world is crashing down, and I couldn’t figure out how to not end that sentence in a preposition.

I’m thinking about making Pork Chop sandwiches with lettuce, mayo, and broken dreams. I wonder what’s out there for me, beyond the immediate gratification of Pork Chop sandwiches. I know I’m an entrepreneur at heart, preferring immediate fantasies to the excruciating execution of long-term planning.

I’m very much hungry, and would like those sandwiches now. But something tells me that I should stay the course and finish what I started. I’ve been hungry for hours, but this isn’t the time to placate petty hunger. No. This is the time for action. To stand up for what’s right and what’s grueling. To sit on a mildly comfortable couch and type about the blisteringly torturous denial of impulses.

Alright. That’s good enough. I’m done.

Aliens Attack

I’m on holiday, and since I have no other PC available, I decided to whip out the old Alienware. The fan might be loud and the keyboard might glow for absolutely no reason at all, but I still love it.


Being sort of snowed made me think this was a Saturday rather than a Tuesday. Talk about being way off.


I just had a thought about American exceptionalism, but I forgot.


A nice sunset
An oasis between workdays
Starts to break into darkness

Just a few more days left
Luggage is already starting to wail
Lonely waves crash and burn
Or maybe that’s your career
On the brink of destruction

Enjoy the dying sun
It’s a beautiful shade of pre-sleep
And hey, you’ve earned it