Journal poetry

It does seem to me that my life is a bit of a standstill. I have a lot of hopes and dreams. A lot of beautiful pictures. And yet here I am going to work every day. I make small progress here and there. The small seems to be something. It seems sometimes hard for me to do simple things that others take for granted. And yet today at least I keep this part to myself because self pity is no appeal or substitute for coherence. Often others just want a reason in the form of a person to blame. I am here today and yesterday seemed perfect and today may not to someone and that often seems the stupidity of being human. There often just is no reason at all. There’s only cause and effect and adaptation. I do my best to emulate God to be that benevolent adaptation to an uncaring universe of cause and effect by humbly preserving myself first. I can trust that if I’m good to myself it’s good for everyone. That acceptance is more humble than pretending to do what’s best for everyone and pretending to be a separate remote control. That’s the stupid method of people who want to use God as an excuse to pretend to be humble while trying to control everything. That’s not humble. I can only know what’s good for myself and if I’m good to me then by accident, if the divine has any relevance at all to anyone then it doesn’t need any selfish managing of others. I was going to keep this particular post private but some confessionals seem relevant so I posted it anyway.