Dec 12

 Can't stop sleeping at the moment.

And the hole in the ass is real. It's baaaaaccck. For sure. Ho hum. I will track everytime it decides to pop. I know. Delightful.

My quiet mood deepens. However I am not silent. Yesterday I talked to my sister, I didn't intend to talk about me at all, but she dug a little, so I shared a few things. Mostly I just phoned her to see how she was doing. To listen. Not talk. At least that was the intention.

But still. The quiet in me is expanding. I no longer find myself curious about others. Wanting to hear their stories. About fighting the good fight. Reducing the suffering. It is. Still. A core part of me. But. There is something overlaying it all. A sense of futility. The conclusion that it cannot be helped. That people are going to people.

On reflection, the whole theory of mind thing, with the collection of voices and drives and so on, as opposed to the singular construct has done much to blunt my thinking that shit can be fixed, things can be helped, that you can have an input and get an output. It's way more chaotic than that. And your efforts are like a fart in a hurricane.

Perhaps it is the extinguishing of hope. For people. For suffering. For people being reasonable. Or fair. Or somewhat Consistent. 

I think I have never felt so... defeated... about humanity... ever.

Defeat is the wrong word.

There's a thing I have mentioned before, an odd cheap and tacky bauble that my dad stuck on our windowsill for years. Uncharacteristic for him. It was a prayer. But one that in hindsight makes perfect sense, and also, catches a tiny glimpse of the person underneath it all. It's the serenity prayer.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
courage to change the things I can,
and wisdom to know the difference.

 There is a lot of wisdom in that. About knowing what to accept and adapt to, and what to strive for and not confusing the two. Confusing the two. Ha. Now there. Is a slippery art.

There is perhaps, right or wrong, a shift for me, in figuring something can be strived for to something that has just been accepted.

That. Is perhaps the root of my quieting.

It is, it has to be said, pretty negative. Giving up on people. I still very much believe in helping and caring and making the world a better place. I've just. Kind of largely given up thinking people can change. Of course people do change. But. Mostly. They don't I think. And it's very slow. And the older they get, the slower it gets.

Rather than fight it. Rail against it all.

I have accepted it. And lapsed into silence.

Perhaps that conclusion is wrong. There's a huge amount to be said for localised storms. You can never really know the overall objective position of something. It's always lost in the subjective fog. If you travel by sea for several weeks. And each day you are beset by storms. You could come to the conclusion that the world is nothing but storms. But. Step back. See the whole planet. Realise that the storms were just that tiny bit of the sea. The world is not full of storms.

Sometimes it's just a symptom of exhausted patience.

And sometimes it's not.