On a long enough timeline, the survival rate for everyone drops to zero.

Defeatist thoughts, yay!  I am at work, still, very late.  We have been cleaning the kitchen thoroughly.  I have been doing my part, which is rare.  I don’t like being in the kitchen.  I don’t feel I belong there; just some gringo in the way of people who know what they’re doing.

When I got off the bus today through the back door, I saw a passenger about the board at the front door.  He was blind, tapping his telltale stick against the sides of the opening to determine its width and then at the bottom step to gague how high he’d have to step up to enter the vehicle.  The bus driver said, “15?”

“Excuse me?”

“This is the 15 headed to Union and Broadway.”

“Oh, I need the –”

But by then I was out of earshot, trucking my way deliberately from one self-indulgent practice to another.  (In this case, from sleep to work, far too busy to witness my fellow man in a sadder state.)  I cursed myself as I put distance between us, narrowly navigating the sidewalks amidst looky-loos, vagrants, tourists, businessmen, and sign twirlers.  I have all five senses in fair working order, all four limbs (well, five; I am a man, after all) functioning properly, neither under- nor overweight, tall enough, not conventionally hideous, smart, friendly, accompanied, loved, employed, sheltered, kept, and creative.

It makes me angry to be sad.  I have lost in the past, will lose again in the future.  But I am alive, and I am winning. 

I have.  There are those that have not.  I don’t remember that enough.

It makes me angry to be sad.  Siddhartha, better known as Buddha, came to similar realizations and gave up his earthly treasures to live life amongst the poor and the suffering, only to find that with no material wealth or position, he could do nothing to help them.  He held no sway over those with the power and provisions to provide aid when he approached them as a vagrant, so he found a nice happy medium wherein he lived with moderate affluence and realized the Four Noble Truths.

I wish I could do that.  Fucking television.  Was there ADHD before television?  I mean, cell phones cause cancer; does TV cause ADHD?  Somebody get the APA on the phone.

It makes me angry to be sad.