Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Our Mid-life Crisis.

At what point in your consumer driven, work oriented, chronically exhausted, and severely dysfunctional life do you start to wake up about the unfulfilling nature of the American existence?

At what point do you realize that no matter how hard you work, there is no freedom waiting at the end of the rainbow to relieve you of your debt, cure you of your depression, restore your health, or, bring you anything other than momentary happiness?

Does this crisis await us all?

When did things change from "I know what I want to be when I grow up" to "this is what, if I'm lucky, I plan to accomplish before I'm dead"?

I turn 25 in one week. While I can say that I wish I were excited, I've always had a weird phobia/fascination with dying. To me, birthday's are a reminder of my mortality. Sort of like waiting for a mammogram to tell you when your time is up.

One year older for me is one year closer to death.

Children are so happy with so little. Some say it is the naivety of children--innocence maybe and the freedom to escape the misery that plagues adulthood. One day they will realize that adulthood is a series of depressing crossroads. "What am I doing in my life"? (logic), and then "I am working to achieve something great" (American Programming) create constant states of turmoil we will call "Capitalist Borderline Personality" for the moment being. And the need (more like addiction) that can only be relieved by more products; which we believe is power. Like a junkie that craves a heroin needle only to return to a state of depression and open sores where the needle penetrated their tender flesh.

Americans are house slaves, I've said this before. As controversial as it may sound, it is more realistic than what we care to admit. We are "better fed" (have more shitty processed food to choose from), and more "options" aka things to buy (IPOD touch or flat screen anyone?) All of which cover up a dull aching pain that can only be described as an unfulfilling urge to be something better --but without the ambition or wherewithal to plan an escape route to that destiny. I will say that we are the "better fed" and "better clothed" house slaves that are closer to master, and therefore have the "illusion of freedom" that stops us from fighting for our freedom.

Perhaps this is the reality we face right before we are shipped off to a retirement home or poverty for being "old" and therefore, too obsolete to work for our master.

when does it suddenly hit you like a ton of bricks that America has crushed your hopes and dreams. With the promise of freedom that will never come?

This is your fellow radical bitter old hag signing off.