Last Exit Before Oblivion

Going from the state of rest to the state of confusion... good feelings have been rare enough in my life that I tend to hang onto them... while also repelling them. I know it's going to end, so why accept anything good at all? Are zebras black on white, or white on black? Take your pick. Is the cup going empty or being filled? In my view it's going on empty, with no chance of being refilled.

So, once I've reached something akin to a comfortable place--I'm not saying good, nor attractive, just survivable and better than other places--I tend to stay put. Challenges are for those who have some confidence of being able to make it out the other side after they move. I look at the challenge, know it's bigger than I am, and turn aside. Bottom-feeder survival mentality. It has always been somewhat embarrassing, but I am still here.

Now, I wonder what this might have looked like, if I'd had some confidence that when the shit hits the fan it won't last forever, that I'll come out of it. Instead, I see each problem as the one that's going to break me. Perhaps the truth is partway between. I can't do everything but I can do some things.

If life is just a constant round of ever-harder challenges, why bother? Is that really what God wants? I must have a wrong idea someplace. Perhaps if I take my glance off the floor and look ahead, what I see will be better than I expect. Nah. Can't be. You're never disappointed when assuming the worst. And I'm tired.