Today I sat wallowing in self pity, seeking to drown and walk on water in one fluid, gulping motion.  I attempted to find solace in the world and the weather but found myself stifled by oppressive heat and inane vanity.  Things are not how I wish them to be, they come as they are and it is a fool’s errand to twist them to my will.  The world is not mine, it is its own. I am a fool.

The birds sing.

The acorn drops.

I sit alone drinking, wishing for naught.

Sitting on my porch, cross legged in a chair, I listened to the sounds of children playing in the distance and the birds warbling in the trees.  I drank my screwdriver, I smoked my cigarette, and I found myself hating the world for not sharing in my vain self loathing.  I seek reflection and I seek redemption but neither are to be truly found in the bitter mire of my mind.

The highlight of my day so far?  Squashing unfounded fears and giving a full throated yodel into the hillsides, eliciting barks from dogs in the distance.  My fear of risk and judgement from the public eye will drown me yet, but I sometimes find myself bubbling at the surface.  I will give another yodel now, if only to prove to myself that I can.

The fear is unfounded.

The act is liberating.

The echoes are satisfying.

A bird landed on the chair beside me and began entertaining its own version of the yodel.  It’s impossible to believe that it came in response to my call but I find myself wishing that it were so.  It sang for me for a while, perched on the edge of the chair, before flying off.  In truth, it did not sing for me.  It sang for itself.

Sing not for others,

Sing for the self.

Sing to the mountains and for your own mental health.

Innumerable wealth in self-satisfaction.

Act not for others, they are selfish distractions.

It’s so fucking hard for me to get out of this mode of thought: that everything I do must be impressive to others, that what I do must have an effect on others.  It’s this insane notion I have that I desperately need others to care about me.  Why do I need this so desperately?  It causes me nothing but grief.

And so I light another cigarette,

Gulp down some more vodka.

Envy the trees and embark in self destructive tendencies.