Lead (To Hell) By Example

I have a dog now. But that’s just another attempt to remain human.

(But her name is Rogue. And she is a good dog. Sadly she’s stuck (currently) with a less than good owner)

My girlfriend’s sister’s fiance just got promoted. He is 5 years my younger and will now be making nearly 3 times what I made at the pathetic position I held until let go last December. He’s not smart or nice or resourceful. He just fits right into the mold. The mold our shitty Sesame Street generation was told didn’t matter. I love you Jim Henson, but this ideal doesn’t stand. I’m a college graduate who spent my life trying (emphasize trying) to do the right thing and help others, but I remain unemployable. Which is different from simply unemployed. I lack employable attributes. I’m best with a whiskey in hand, melancholy music, sports on TV (muted), dog asleep, friends away. And memories. All the memories. Swimming in formation above my head. Waiting to dive like vultures onto the last remnants of emotion I express. Any time I show an ounce of care, come swooping to peck and tear the flesh of feeling. Training me in the ways I fail to train my dog.

Tonight I volunteer at the library. I do so 3 times a week. Thought it might be worthwhile somewhere back in the distant past. Now I try to get drunk before each 2 hour shift to numb the feelings of worthlessness. This is the volunteer work only senior citizens do. Literally. I even have library patrons telling me I should be doing something else. "Whadya got?" the Brando in my head pleads.

I can’t stand how my perspective becomes more and more alienated from those around me. To me it’s rationality. For the others it’s a variety of things: ignorance, naiveté, brainwashing, the ability to do a simple Google search for basic facts. Okay. The last one never get attributed to me. But it covers a lot. I’m not smart. I just know to check up on legitimacy. That’s all. And I’m not given to believe in things easily. I require proof, because the majority of my daily experience is filled with bullshit. So I demand experimental evidence. Tested. Tried. And as true as anything can be. Due to this, I become less and less connected to the world around me. I don’t demand stimulation, purpose nor passion. Just the facts, ma’am. The rest may come as it wills.

Rogue likes me though. So that counts for something. Sucks for her, but counts for something. Speaking of. I need to take her out to shit and piss. Now that I have done it myself.