It’s one of those blues-got-a-hold-of-your-soul days if I ever did feel one. Maybe I just feel a little bit too much “in the moment,” if you know what I mean. Tired, dead tired, and draggin’, but still with many miles to go before I rest.
I’d like to say the republicans are to blame for my latest malaise, but I can’t rightly lay blame entirely on the doorstep of George W. and his political cronies, as much as I would like to blame George W. for everything wrong in the world, I can’t blame him for this feeling of a strangeness of the day. Of this feeling, he is innocent.
It is that crispness in the air, a chill when a whisper of warmth to come should be there. Strange, you think. Something isn’t right, but you can’t quite single out that one moment or thing that is making the day strange.
It is the oddity of the spring birds singing their early morning songs before dawn, yet feeling as if it is still winter and the birds should be huddled in their nests for warmth and safety. It is the morning news reporting how everything is the same as the day before, but the day before was just slightly off in that something’s-off-kilter-but-I-can’t-be-sure-what way.
Maybe it was the war? Maybe it was a terrorist attack that has left the world with that feeling of a strange day? Maybe it’s the fact war and terrorism is the status quo, which has made the days seem strange? Maybe it’s the desire to feel safe, secure, free, and to not have a care in the world, and feeling guilty for having these desires that makes the day seem strange?
God knows, I want it all to be set right; but I don’t know what is right anymore, and the strangeness of the day is becoming the norm. I’ve forgotten what it was like to not feel this strangeness, this eerie feeling that something is wrong, but everyone else seems to accept it all as the norm.
Sometimes ya just gotta go with the day, as it is, and see where it’ll take you, strange or not.