Things are pretty bad in these times. I'm not a happy camper. Nothing specific just the accretion of all the ugly shit out there. In my case the usual early 21st century Senior Citizen sob story.
Remembering how it was where we thought we were going. Loses of family friends position responsibilities purpose. All that swell stuff. The world is now a science fiction William Burroughs Philp K. Dick Samuel Delany Three Stooges nightmare.
...and getting more interesting all the time.
The Newspaper mass shooting today sort of did it for me. The normalization of mass murder the rise of 1930's style fascism everywhere don't help. One becomes weary of the spectacle.
So I called the Suicide Hotline,...expecting to get a machine. A digitized Confessional. I figured I'd complain into some hard drive. Then tell it to go fuck itself. I'd hang up refreshed, and ready to face more shit slammed into my face.
Instead I got a human being.
Imagine my surprise. She listened as I unwound decades of chaos into her ear. Such patients. I imagine being a catholic confessor must be much the same.
If I were one of the folks I'd just prescribe watching a few episodes of "Mayberry RFD",...google it, as a cure all penance.
Perhaps repeat viewings of the boxed sets of "Walking Dead" for any republicans.
Anyway my Confessor just listened, and made a few thoughtful comments. Her timing was impeccable. She knew her business. I'm still here. So another day another mass shooting, and #45 curses his hatred of more than half the country.
Stay Tuned.
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