Departure, Arrival, And The Between

I missed my train this morning - slept straight through it. They were right, first time for everything. I've not slept well in weeks, so my body has been in rebellion. The past few days have been less than ideal. As usual, on top of everything else, I have my own problems. I mean, they're all self-afflicted, but hey, I am self-aware and that's progress.

Anyway, I was able to get another one. My coach has this group of teachers going for a picnic, I think? They're boisterous and happy and having fun, everything I've been disassociated with for months, if not years. I wonder if that was the trigger, or just a violent brain fog. But yeah, I started sobbing.

Luckily, my berth is right next to the window, so I could play out one of those dramatic scenes from the movies. You know, the one where I'm staring into space, tears rolling down, somber music in the background, the whole shebang. Good fun. It was weird though. I mean, I have a bunch of weak arguments for why that might've happened, but no real reason, none I could fathom. But, that's not what I want to talk about.

The point is, to distract myself, I watched a comedy special from one of the most talented artists in the country, and damn, that was the wittiest, most intellectual storytelling I've ever witnessed. Yes, stand-ups are an artistic spin to writing and storytelling, grow up. It was just as patriotic as it was anti-national, like the haters would say. So subtle that it hit you smack in the face. So free flowing that it made me question its authenticity. I don't watch new stuff. Uncharted territories don't provide psychological safety, something I've been in dire need of since, let's face it, the past twenty four years. But every once in a while, an unfavorable situation forces me into requiring new energy. I'm glad it did.

It's scary, the power intellect has over me. Can't fall for every brain with a cute smile.

Nobody told me PMS hits you harder as you adult. Can we skip to season four of life already please?