I want to go live in the woods sometimes

I want to go live in the woods sometimes

I’ve been feeling real negative about today. Or maybe this week? This month?

There are some days where it’s impossible to think of humanity as anything other than a bunch of rats. A pile scrabbling over each other without any awareness of the others.

I don’t even think it’s malice, just pure self-absorption. I can’t decide if that’s a comfort or if it just makes the whole thing worse.

I’m riding to work and I signal left to change lanes so I can make my turn. The car coming from behind me speeds up, then matches my speed so I can’t get over. People yell at me and I can’t even figure out what they’re mad about

Riding down 4th Street and everyone is walking with their faces pointed down into their phones. Everyone is honking and trying to squeeze through whatever space they can. A car whizzes past me on the right, then cuts over to get in front of me. I catch up to him at every light for the next 6 blocks.

There’s a Papa John’s delivery car parked in the middle of the street with a parked car across the street. Traffic is blocked in both directions and everyone is going apeshit. I see the owner of the car walking down the street complaining about how he didn’t get tipped on his delivery.

Every street I ride on is under construction. They’re slowly burying downtown under an endless maze of overpasses. I zigzag through street after street trying to get through. I imagine walking for blocks without ever seeing the sun.

My instinct is to flee for the hills. I have no skills to do it but the idea of homesteading is so appealing to me.

But my center is here. There are people I need and who need me.

I used to know a family where the dad would say “Time to blast my way out of this miserable hell-hole” as he was leaving for work in the morning. Christ, what a way to live.

Sometimes coming home to this is the only thing that gets me through the day.