A Tired Old Man

A Tired Old Man

Trying to come to terms with life.

The Problem:

My life is more than half over, and life has not been kind.

The Wounds We Bled

I feel a lot like Harry Holler in the book Steppenwolf by Herman Hesse. When he tired of society, and the bourgeois in their living, and lives. And much like him, the question if one shouldn’t have a serious accident while shaving seems to be logical.

No one really seems to be reading, or thinking. Why? There are no companions, or friends in this world. It would be nice if there was someone to talk with sometimes about more than the weather. Seems there is no one to talk with, or about. Pity, in a world of eight billion people, you would think there would be someone to talk about. I’m trying to be kind in what I say, and sometimes it is best to keep ones mouth shut. Still, it would be nice if there was someone to spend some time with that wasn’t too difficult to talk with.

Seems, I’ve spent the last eleven months laying on the sofa, like a warm sack of shit. This has come to have a name, I call it living like zombie cat shit. In my humble opinion it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. If there was work to be done, or something that I could work on; that would be something better. At least I would be making good use of my time, and energy. It feels good to be of use, and to make life better for others. Unfortunately I’m just getting by not able to entertain others or keep good company with people. Seems a problem with being poor and alone.

And the zombie cat shit seems to be on repeat. How do real people live like this? Does it not become wearisome to their very beings? Do they not tire of this like a sore on the amputated leg of a dead cat? How can they not grow tired of living in these ways? I guess, some have friends, or wives, or jobs. Some of them, have enough money to have some fun. But even so, do they not tire of the way they are living? How much is enough?

The way things are, if there was someone to talk with, to spend time with that wanted to talk about people, even talk about people that aren’t real; just for kicks. Yet, everyone seems to be busy, or tired, or just too indifferent to care. Someone is going to have to care again. Life matters, and if people don’t want problems in society, they have to fix the problems in society. It will take more than a religion to fix these problems. Society seems broken, and people are too negligent to really care. It is a problem.

Seems like Harry Holler in the book Steppenwolf, we need a magic theater to have some real adventures in. Someway to have some safe but wild experiences. Need something that brings real relief, and something that brings real comfort. Sometimes you just want to get out of your head a bit. Doesn’t life seem like a living death? Are you living more than a warm sack of shit? If you’re living better than that, write me, and tell me how to live better.

Thanks.

— C —