This morning, sometime before nine o'clock. A light blue car pulls up to the intersection as I'm biking through. Driver is dark skinned, blonde dyed hair, turquoise suit of some kind. A string of obscenities spews forth as I pass. Later I joke to my boss that our species ought to be euthanized. My jokes are often accurate statements made with just enough vocal distortion to pass for humor.
For most of the day I sit before a computer I once named "black-dragon" issuing commands to other machines. Black Dragon sings me old songs that remind me of what I once thought important.
"And you gotta make it where?
To a sanctuary that's a fragile American hell
An empty dream
A selfish, horrific vision
Passed on like the deadliest of viruses"
An e-mail update from a friend comes through. Her stalker is in jail, she's going to have to testify. A bit of good news, it was tricky helping with the hide out. Relief is short lived, still nothing on the horizon I can imagine getting excited about.
Fall back on an old mental trick, tell myself I've been dead for years, just keeping the body around to wrap up a few things for the people I left behind.
Much later I am amusing my girlfriend with episodes of Farscape, which I stopped watching years ago. Aeryn, the one I understand best these days, gives me a flashback - "I'm just a simple warrior who thinks love means you're willing to fight and die for your fellow living beings."
Technically my existence makes it easier for others in this country to eat, to keep their houses. Get medical care. It means that soon my college loans will be gone, and I will have no further obligations. Perhaps forty-odd years from now I will pass a small legacy to some worthy organization.
My father spent his whole life fighting AIDS, cancer, locating lost children. He has a similar response to all of this.
So what?