Sleepless Night

 Stagnation. What is that? It is real to some and not to others. We used to have childhood adventures on a long summer day. Those days were a thousand years long, and they were terrific. I can still remember just about getting out of bed and walking straight outside. It was there I remained until after dark. We really had something.

I don't know why, as a people, we always wanted more because we had it all. We just did not know it. A friend described it best to me a few years ago. On those adventures with the children in your neighborhood, we learned social skills, leadership, creativity, and moral fortitude. We did what was right, even if it meant feeling uncomfortable. Only then did we know what it felt like to be free. 

Decades have passed, and three more generations have stepped into the light. We have not done them any favors, wanting all we wanted, and building all we did. I wish we could take it back. They are lonely in their conformity. They are desperate in their sects. Commercially scarred all over, trying to fit into a club where no one fits in. It used to mean rebellion, and if not that, then maybe truth. Today, we have diluted it with the mass of three oceans. It means nothing.

Somewhere along the way, we too got addicted. She steps up to the stage and walks a certain way, speaking with modesty that screams, 'Look at me!' Every time she contemplates where she is going, it feels like someone is pushing her under. But why? She is too smart for that. But she, but we, are actually not.

Life has turned into a self-inflicted act of disapproval by the headmistress. They never catch up or make it right. Could it be better to not sell oneself to the commercial machine that is running everything now? Who cares about you anyway?  Who cares about me? The honest answer is they may be close, and you do not even know it. Getting lost in that hopeless little convex glass, and you think you are winning. It's not true, it's not real; it's a trap. A terrible one too.

Regardless of the generation, some understand, and those who do not. I always appreciate those who are wide awake and see things for what they truly are. They always catch me off guard, and what a wonderful discovery that is. It becomes like a gift.

I hate nights like this. So many thoughts are jumbled in my head, spinning on a carousel moving faster than the speed of sound. We keep pushing things off the deck of the ship, and still, there are so many things to repair. There seems to be no end in sight. 

I just read the lyrics to Don Henley's New York Minute. Wow! Very deep. I digress. I know none of this makes any sense, but isn't that what a sleepless night is all about? I am going to try again. Good night.