Somehow, I'm piecing
together an existence.
I've got tools and skills, can do those
things
people will always need doing: patch a
ceiling,
replace a fixture, improve the home. It's a
form
of self-reliance. Then again, this 4pm
crosstown
drive home in a 41¢/minute Car2Go
reminded me
I'm still balled up in the madness. What
were
all of us doing there on the road? Most of
it
I'm sure had something to do with chasing
dollars,
people going to and from their jobs, just
like me.
I marvel at our collective patience, the
human
capacity for enduring this endless torrent
of shit.
Could fucked traffic be teaching us zen
detachment?
Or maybe that's just the Seattle style of
driving:
"Desire to make the light is the root of all
suffering."
I'm probably giving too much credit. Look
around
and see drivers lost in their phones, not
all there.
How did we get here? Where are we going?
Gas, brake.
Stop, go. Back, forth. Barely afloat,
circling the drain.
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