When the sun stays low... and disappears at 5pm everyday. I just... shouldn't. I'm supposed to be in my cave. My tree. Wherever it is that feral chimp-possums hibernate. But, alas... I can't. So I slog through what seems like a million days... self-medicating with alcohol, coffee, tethered-riding, and jumping around in my living room to "Plyo-X"(scaring the everloving shit out of my dog). Until finally, the darkness passes. Physically, at least. Thus far, my mental darkness demonstrates a tenacity that is as inspiring as it is expiring.
Procrastination saves lives. Never doubt that.
Those of you that know, know... and those that don't... might never. But it's a spectre that follows you everywhere. Probably forever. You just... stay ahead of it.
It's like Fugazi says....( even if it's not what they were talking about)...
"If I stop to catch my breath... I just might catch a piece of death."
And maybe it's less that I'm mammal... and more that... I'm human?
I've always felt that humanity skirts this fine edge. We have an undoubted spark of... something. Intelligence. Spirit. Spunk. Something. But ultimately, we're just a higher order of mammal. Stuck in limbo. One in whom self-awareness has turned to self-aggrandizement. Laughing at primates laughing at rodents laughing at spiders laughing at insects. And we seem to think that spark of "something"... is much more than it is. Some people think it's "divinity." Me? The closest I've ever come to calling something "divine" is when I look at the sky. And even then, to even think of calling it that is just to fail at language. It's looking at something much larger than myself. It's knowing my own pitiful size and scope in the scheme of this universe. Knowing that the stars are impassive... the planets unimpressed... the sun ambivalent... and that the sky gives literally zero fucks.
When I look at humanity? I just see... more mammals. I see animals too smart for their own good and too dumb to recognize their cognitive shortcomings. I see the DNA we share with everything. I see the porcine. The equine. The canine. The bovine. The murine. The simian. Sometimes... the avian. Or the reptilian. Or... the ichthic. Shadows of "The Innsmouth look," which I guess hints at its own twisted "divinity"... one far removed from anything most people would ever yearn to be associated with. (Look it up.)
It's to the point where I've sometimes gotten lost in our absurdity... at the wrongest of times. Lying in bed with a beautiful girl, our clothes scattered across the floor... sated and smitten and unable to stop my awe-struck and reverent utterings... "You have a nose. A nose! That is so. fucking. weird."
(In gentle and hushed tones, of course.)
But divine? As in...exalted? Gah! To my mind, that's more terrifying than a massive cephalopodic Chtulhu coming to wipe us all out.
Because when I see people, for the most part I just see weak chins... big noses... crooked teeth... balding heads... grotesque paunches... skin conditions... small minds... lecherous drives... and a total, appalling lack of humility.
If that's a spark of divinity... can I, like...fall from grace now? Or something?
We need a new mythology.
Joseph Campell called myth the "secret opening through which the inexhaustible energy of the cosmos pour into human cultural manifestation." More and more... I think the true travesty is that we can't see past our own asses when that energy pours through us. Which makes sense, given the flawed and incomplete lenses through which we view the world. We laugh at the rabbit's erroneous take on this existence.. but never think to laugh at our own. Imbuing ourselves with purpose and "grace." As opposed to recognizing the opposite...That the currents surrounding us are more meaningful than our own pitiful floundering in them could ever be.
I think... that short memory is something of a genetic imperative in humanity. Forget the past so we can invent the future. What's the quotation? "To err is human... to forget, divine?" No? Whatever. It is now. Because it seems like making up some narrative that says we're meant to be there is infinitely more appealing to people than considering the possibility that ultimately, we're just another extinction waiting to happen.
The point is... winter sucks.