May 28

 I am continuing to work on all days. Weekends. Whatever. Just to pile through it all. I'm currently doing at least a half day every day if not more. Tinkering around in places. Pushing through in others. Just to get it done. But it resists my efforts, one more thing after another.

Eh meh.

I've also inadvertently... advertently... started isolating hardcore. I feel very disinclined to talk or see anyone. Including Hazel. I just. Don't. For the most part I am surprisingly ok with it. Just. Content to go completely hermit mode. I can't imagine it's good for me, but eh.

I went for a walk the other day which was better than I have done recently. Wasn't great. Chest tightened up, neck started clamping, but, nowhere near as bad as before. It was ok. I managed to half enjoy the walk. Had a lie down halfway round in the sun.

Athena is in pretty good form considering she's due another shot very soon. She is slower, subtly, ever more every month. But still doing alright. Still overall, a happy girl. She is still curious about her surroundings. And gets excited about stuff. She is in short, still able to enjoy life.

I, on the other hand am not.

As I walked behind Athena into the kitchen today, I took note of the length of time passed, and that we were approaching the 2 year mark of having lost Ares. And how it was Athena was still here. And so on. And yada. And of course. Even near 2 years later. It stings like a fucker. A punch to the stomach. I still miss him. And at this point. I can't imagine I am ever going to properly heal from it. As fucked up and pathetic as that is. As unbalanced and dysfunctional. It is where I am. Thoughts about my mom also drift through. As complicated as it is. I miss talking to her. She is gone. Her life is done. It feels like there is nothing left for me.

I reflected that I am not enjoying life. As I considered my thoughts about increasing bad health signs. And what the fuck does it matter. Because. I am not enjoying life. I honestly. Cannot think of a single reason I wan't to stick around. For what ? More of this ? Are you insane ? I have lost the point of life.

At some point in the distant past, I can remember I used to look forward to stuff. A new game. Being able to do a new thing. Figuring out how to make things. To do things with others. It was always a state of anticipation about what lay around the corner. Give me more time and I could do more things. And explore ideas and stuff. Me as a kid into teens.

Pretty quickly that eroded. The idea of new games, or new things practically went to zero. Nothing "sparked joy" anymore. The rot started mid teen. And as I approached 30s it had developed. Tools were still of interest. A better computer to do better things. But. So much else had burned to zero. Materialism gone. The odd spark here and there. But over time that went too. And I lost my sense of materialism entirely.

But there were still people. All about the people. Relationships. Talking to people. And that I did for a long time. Until one by one I got hurt by people. Or realised the things that made people tick. The negatives. The jealousies. The ego. And slowly. That waned. But still. Even until recently. People. All about the people.

But now I find that fire has died away too. Gone.

I am no longer interested. Perhaps. I just need time and good people to vibe with. Perhaps. Perhaps the isolationism is causing me to double down on feeling estranged from everyone. Maybe. But there is also a cold bitter logic beneath it all. I have seen people. Over and over again. The same patterns. The same mistakes. And I am tired of watching the repeated theatre. You learn to not interfere. Then not get involved. Then realise you are better out of it entirely. And then what ?

I think the last sparks of hope I had for people have gone out. I have seen what I need to see.

I am not bitter or angry. Just resigned. Stranger in a strange land. The oh so typical psych feelings of not belonging. Of. Just being trapped in a society that makes no sense, with people that careen around making the same repeated mistakes. It feels like I am trapped in a mad house. So. You just sit quietly. In the corner. And try to let it all just pass by.

I also find that I have no desire to go see parts of the world. Experience different things. Some of it is pretty. No doubt. But it is shifting vistas. It changes nothing. A nice valley. A glittering sea. A pleasant piazza. It is our planet. It holds no great meaning. And overrun by us. Shouting. Selling. Faking.

I cannot think of what there is in life that I can say yes, this is cool. Another day please.

Nothing.

Athena is like a tiny slowly dimming flame in the dark. She's the only light in my life. I think dogs are amazing. We don't deserve them. They are better than us. They certainly don't deserve us in the sense that they deserve better than us. We are pretty shit.

I sometimes think about everyone else. What it is they are looking forward to. What do they get excited about. How am I different. Why am I different. What makes them think yeah, I like life. Perhaps they don't. Perhaps it's all a shell game. Going on holiday to chase away the existential dread. Buying a new kitchen appliance to stave off the misery. I Suspect some people do indeed live like that. Retail therapy. But not all. Surely ? I am pretty sure it's not all. Perhaps they live just to get slammed at the weekends. Or slammed and fuck someone. Or work towards owning their own home, young enough to not yet be jaded with it all. Naive and inexperienced enough to think it matters.

I don't get it.

I do not like life.

I find myself hard pressed to come up with anything at all.

Just a bad day perhaps.

Ares.

Spiralled me down.

I miss him. I wish he was still here with us. I miss his big huffs of breath. His strength and weight when he sidled up to you. I miss his gentle touching of heads, his big skull for a moment joined to yours. Hello old friend. Sigh.

I just miss him. As I will absolutely no doubt miss Athena.

Ask me at the moment. And Athena is done I will let go. Of the last piece of me still attached to the earth. And just let go.

The other day, whilst watching something or other on youtube. A raft of adverts drifted by. And news. And things. And I was struck again by how inauthentic the modern world is. Here an advert for Disney world, with manufactured heroes enabling encouraging everyone to be their favourite hero. All cape. And costume. And posturing. The very meaning of the word hero lost to comic book jingoism, to hollywood packaging. Over used. Over played. Yours for $99.99. Here. Have a tacky piece of plastic. You're a hero ! Like a word spoken too many times that it becomes alien in your mouth. A weird jumble of noise divorced from its meaning. And then there were adverts for new flip flops. Amazing. Make your life better. I kid you not. All happy beaches. And stylish young people. And go here. And do this. And its all so wonderful. And heres a short from this influencer living her manufactured best life. Doing this. Taking pictures there. A young person posing for selfies. And oh look. The Kardashian are back. A picture of them all, make up enough to sink a battleship. All vague manufactured carbon copies of each other. Pouting. Posed. Look at us.

It all felt so very very fake. All of it. Not just the Kardashians. Manufactured. Nothing real. All of our human experiences and history washed away in commercialism and over exposure. It feels like we have become a parody of ourselves. Shinier. Brighter. All smile and fake makeup. But hollow within. Empty. Rotten. Zero authenticism. Just a rash of shopping and materialistic crap and manufactured experiences and marketing and noise.

I think the summary for me is authenticism. We live in an inauthentic age. Where marketing and hype and the look of the thing, the inclusivity of the thing, the shininess of it is all that matters.

It hilariously doesn't help with my whole finding no point in life.

I don't enjoy being in the room of overloud fakers.

Meh.

I cannot wrap my head around it. I am trapped in a world full of bizarre aliens.

...

Athena has got up from cuddling me. Her warmth disappears. She thinks it is time to check the kitchen for food. She huffs at me in that very wonderful boxerlike way. Full of meaning. She's talking to me. In one of the ways that she can. She locks eyes with me just to make sure I get it. Come on. She says.

Ok.

Let's do that. Lets check the kitchen. Enough writing.

Go. Time to put aside this laptop.