I have this feeling like I’m waiting for something. It’s been there so long that I can’t recall what it is. Will I know it when it happens, when it arrives? Or will it pass by like anything else? It’s a feeling that never connects with anything. It strives for itself, to justify its own presence. And it never goes away. Things could be looking up, I could feel a little hopeful, but it’s always there nagging me about nothing, for no reason. It’s in a dark corner counting the seconds as they pass by in a mechanical haze. It’s been over 35 years. That’s a lot of seconds piled up in one lifetime. And for what? You go to work, participate in the unthinking, unfeeling economic machine for 8, 10, 12 hours a day, 4, 5, 6, maybe 7 days a week, months on end, years on end, decades, and you’re the same as you ever were. Your experiences are measured and replicated across countless lives, all participating in the same form of living, all forced into the same habits and routines. I guess it makes sense that some people frazzle out and stop functioning properly for their role. They’ll call in sick, play hooky, get irascible with their authority figures, break some laws, cross some lines. There are days I find that path appealing. As long as it’s different, a rupture of the ordinary. It gets so tedious when every job, every neighborhood, every city is the same for every person, and every person is formed into something similar in response to it. Every house is the same, every building, every strip mall. There was one building near where I live that was built to look like a giant basket. I don’t know if it’s still there or not. Even for all it’s strangeness, it was just as boring as any other building. It’s all a bunch of misfolded proteins eating holes in the grey matter of the Earth. Is this entropy? I don’t know if I like it much. I do like the idea of everything falling apart eventually. There’s something cathartic about the inevitability of it.