Nothing Competes With Habit

Even now, I rise before the sun.  It is not necessarily a race I care to win. . . but I do.  I rise blankly, make coffee, read the news.  There is nothing that competes with habit.  Trying to break it is another thing.  I have decided to stay neutral, to stay numb.  Maybe its the times.  First the plants, then the animals.  Now the climate is flummoxed.  It will be a wet and tropical autumn and winter here.  Looking out the window is like looking at a movie set, a sterile replica.  The outrage and paranoia of the people scares me.  More than that.  Pleasures are deemed perverse.  I cannot stand to look at the crowd.  I want things I cannot have.

This is all the fault of reproduction.  There are just too many people.  Resources are scarce.  Borders bleed.  We are offered terrible choices.

I like this from an article about Dave Chappelle's take on voting for Hillary Clinton:

He likened voting for her to a hypothetical situation of actress Halle Berry breaking wind in his face during sexual relations. “I’m still going to go for it,” he said. “But I wish she hadn’t done that thing.”

It seems to me to describe most choices offered us now.

I shouldn't talk this way.  It is not helpful.  If this were Facebook, I would get unfriended.

I stole that line about habit, by the way.  It is from a song by Amy Mann.  I like her music.  She is the least happy pop musician ever.  Turn away when you play the song.  The video image is irritating.