Oh yes, I am back to pissed off again!  But it’s just a pure furiousness at the injustice of life.  And that’s fucking laughable.  How is it possible to even feel mad about that?  It’s like hating a color, or despising the breeze.  Ridiculous.

Nonetheless, rage it is.  I blasted home today.  Had to beat the storm.  Wished the whole way it was a tank I was driving and could just roll over anything in my way.  I wished my soul was like that, too.  Unstoppable.  Scornful of obstacles.  Armored.  No chance of that, though.  The soul is lucky to have the body around to protect it, and the body isn’t much of a defense.  Agility helps, but really the mind is the means to protect the soul.

That’s how I keep going forward.  My mind tricks my soul into thinking everything is okay for a little while and then shit gets done.  That takes an enormous amount of effort, though, because I’m not even supposed to know it’s going on.  But it is tough to keep secrets from yourself.

Lu’s post hit a nerve yesterday.  We could tell by all the emails and phone calls from friends and family near and far.  The funny part is that everyone that called that thought her post was exactly about them were really none of the people it was actually about.  Those people don’t read this.  They didn’t call after she wrote it and they won’t call anytime soon.

Frankly, I could give a shit.  We are mired in such a quandry of conflicting emotions that I’m more concerned with myself and Lu than anyone else around me.  Some people just can’t deal with this.  So they don’t.  They have backed off to let us deal with our lives as we will.  Perhaps they will come back to us down the line.  I hope they do.

Others have just jumped in to help us any way they can.  I guess I’m more surprised at how many people are still all over us than I am at the people that are not.  I expect imperfection and disappointment from other humans.  We all can’t help but screw up now and then.  And let’s admit it, we are scary people now.  We represent a terrifying aspect of life and it is almost blinding to look too closely.

We’re like a dense black hole of raw emotion and every now and then a little beam of light fires out of it.  People around us, they feel our gravity and then see that beam and they latch on to it and they stare into it to try and discern what exactly is going on behind our darkened veil of sadness, but that is so hard to do.  That little flash of insight is meager and thin compared to boiling plasma within our skin.  Some are able to face that roiling, furious sadness, take the heat and light and pain and calm us with a word or ease us with their simple presence.  Others are burned to a crisp whenever they get close, or perhaps aren’t even sure if they can handle us right now.

We don’t even know how we can handle ourselves sometimes.

Sometimes I don’t care about a damn thing.  Then I care so much about everything I shatter from a breeze.  Then there are tasks to performs and things I want to and must do, and my soul is briefly distracted until I get through another snowy sunset, whole still, yes, but hollowed out inside.

Then the phone rings and it’s a friend on the line and I realize just how much I need other people to lean on.  For long moments at a time I am filled with laughter and everything seems almost bearable, almost.

I’m worn thin by the constant flow of tears, by the friction of my raw soul rubbing against the rough edges of this life.  I’m not pissed off at anyone in particular ’cause I’m too busy being mad at the fundamental axioms of the Universe itself.  More than anything I just miss Silas with every cell of my being, all the time, always, even when I’m somehow dealing with the day and seem okay.

I guess it’s time to get back in the Tank and demolish some of life’s bullshit.  Get out of the way if you see me in the rear-view.  I don’t honk anymore.