Why, Life?

I remember when I was young, the suburbs were a kingdom. The free way intersection leading into my ring road paradise was like the entrance of a deadly mote. I once had a dream of walking my bike, rolling it slowly down the side walks of my neighbourhood until I came to the intersection. It was night and all I could see was shown to me under street lights. Cars sped by. I was frightened but I began to cross the road. And then nothing. I awoke. My little mind could not fathom what lay beyond my own domain. Now the suburbs are a curse. An embarrassment of the White Man's World, and I used to loathe being born in these conditions. But only after I could retrace city steps in my mind. After I could know and remember what lay beyond that intersection. High School Social Studies classes have made me into a hopeless, sad, and informed citizen. I know now the unkind nature of nature, the ignominious nature of the human kind.

And it's amazing how much humanity you can find in a cup of tea steeping on a morning where you missed a bid on ebay and you somehow came across a site with relationship advice. And a video featuring some guy from the military who runs a "How to get your ex back" service online. He uses an analogy which likens the first step in getting your relationship back to judo. By accepting things, you can use their power, instead of exerting force and hurting yourself, selflessly repel the attacks that come your way. Either way my tea is ready now. I just read a myth as to how it was created. The moon fell in love with a comet, which as quick as it appeared, disappeared into the blackness of the night from which it came. The moon, filled with sorrow, sank quickly down, dropping the temperature of the land, and somehow made this tea. I love mythology. I love the internet. Such a place it is.

And so it begins.

About a week ago I had this dream; driving and then turning at a busy intersection. And being hit sideways by a speeding car. Dead. Or worse. And now it has actually happened. Just like in the dream. A few days later before I drove again, I wondered if it would. Reality does not cease to amaze, or to side fuck consciousness. What does it even mean though? Now there is trauma, something that I almost half-heartedly, subconsciously admit to wanting. For some therapeutic, masochistic, self pitying reason. All I know is that this event has given me good enough reason to start this blog. This super-connected cyber collection of useless information. Oh well. Now I know what all the fuss is about, the grit and grind of mortality. But still something does not phase me. Fuck all the poetics, the smoothing out of wrinkles and attempting to sound like an online teenage pseudo-philospher. I just want something else. From this. And I'm not angry, no. And I'm not confused. I'm not clear headed either, like I am after mushrooms or sex. I'm tired. And stressed. And the back of my mother's car is missing and I almost just killed most of the sacred women in my family. I'm like some sort of fucked up freudian subconscious sexist or something. I don't want to be though. I don't want to be a lot of things. But I am. The truth is, when I wake up and go out into the world, I don't know how to agree with it. I just don't. It disagrees with me, and I with it. It's all in the disagreements. It's all in the falling out.