8 March 2011

March 8, 2011

There are some days. You don’t know what to do with them, where to put them, which drawer they fit in. Maybe they belong on a shelf all by themselves; maybe they belong deep in the cold, wet ground.

After work yesterday, I walked down 15th street to Starbucks. I tried listening to Rage Against the Machine, but it didn’t help. I wasn’t angry. I was depressed. In the parking lot there was a stray cat and I spent 15 minutes chasing him before I finally had to let him go. The whole day was like that. Helpless. I couldn’t do a thing.

My mind was static, and when I got to the counter at Starbucks I couldn’t remember what to order. I got a passion tea and it tasted like soap and flowers.

Sometimes you have to get far enough away from something to know how to speak of it.

To pretend that business is anything other than brutal is to misunderstand the world we live in. We are both the cogs and the machine. We are the very companies that consume us. But there’s no one to blame. We are all just doing our best; we are all just trying to be good people.

And like a friend of mine said, Sometimes the best things come out of days like this.

Sometimes.

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