This whole job search thing is INSANE ... 90% of the things I'm applying for I already KNOW are going to be soul-crushing living hells that will make me want to kill myself each and every day. Plus, it looks 99% sure at this point that we're going to be losing our home ... I can't see anyway at this point that we'll be able to stay here ... and "here" being my dream home where I never wanted to move from. I can't even IMAGINE moving. The whole scenario is too bizarre. The Wife seems all eager, though, she grew up in suburbia and thinks that it would be WONDERFUL to raise The Girls out there. I don't think I could survive it though. Except for just being there for my daughters, I have NO incentive to live at this point. I have failed at EVERYTHING I have ever attempted, I am faced with going back to a life of unrelenting hell work-wise and being cast down into some unspeakable pit of inanity as far as where we will be living. Things might be survivable for The Wife and my girls, but it will be be nothing but crushing torment for me. I somehow think they would be better of with me dead ... lord knows that *I* would be better off dead than in a jack-shit job someplace in some jack-shit suburb, having to fucking COMMUTE to some piece-of-shit shack in the middle of a bland fucking sea of piece-of-shit shacks, day in and day out, with no HOPE of things ever getting better.
TRAPPED, DRAGGED DOWN
wasted hours
driving through
the "shoulds" and "musts"
this effort, useless,
pointless, all in vain
we, at gunpoint
forced to our knees
to placate the world
how better to be able
to follow the inner voice
and cast away the world,
standing bravely
against the storm
even as it destroys
us and everything
we care about
we search for chain
to bind our hands
in bondage to
the mundane beast...
how much our hate
grows by the day,
how much our anguish
burns deep within
stupid dreams and hope
are all that's left,
there's nothing but pain
in this reality,
no magic road
which leads away
into sanity, sense,
and safer zones
like bucket crabs
the sleeping mass
pulls us down
from where we've climbed
murmuring platitudes
of how none may ever
achieve the waking
or attain the light
- Brendan Tripp
10/09/2001
Copyright © 2001 by Brendan Tripp
