Disorder

Do you feel anxious a lot of the time? You may have an anxiety disorder, but watch out who you tell it to because they might say, "Aw that's OK, just have a beer and chill out!' so you have to say "Well, I been having at least six beers every night for the past year so maybe beer is not the answer, what do you think?'
Anxiety disorder is no fun, that's for sure, and neither is depression. Maybe you feel like the sun went out, even when the sun was out, it's summer yet you're frozen solid at the bottom of a lake, you get sick in crowds and freak out as soon as you step outside your door. Everything sucks, even things that normally don't suck. How does that happen? Good question! But don't worry, somebody has some advice for you: 'Aw, cheer up! It can't be that bad! Smile! Attaboy!' How about that advice? Ha! Just try taking it!
You could even be the kind of person who likes to write stuff, and it seems to work out best when you hit the suds. Well, what if you were that person and you felt some cRaZy urge to write every night? What would happen then, eh? Yes, you would have to hit the suds every night! Then, what if you got anxiety disorder and then on top of that, depression? If you thought about it, you might suspect that all these things could somehow be connected, and if they were, because they probably were, you would have a problem, wouldn't you say?
Ho! It sure would suck to be that person!

Squawking from the Sidelines

Here I am waiting patiently for an idea. An idea will come along any minute now, I'm sure of it. Just gotta wait, or meditate, or something, that's all. Maybe start typing random words, gibberish, or even some dialogue between a postal clerk and a Tourette's sufferer standing in line, screaming obscenities. How about writing something about the *War on Terror*? No, there are enough people writing about that. How about something insightful and penetrating on the Middle East conflict? No, there are enough people making comments on that too. How about our Prime Minister, John Howard? No, I guess I can't raise enough interest for that. It's boring, to be honest. Everybody has an opinion about it and it sounds like ducks quacking or chickens squawking. Writing about women reading on the bus seems so much more important and interesting. Even writing about what some character gets up to in a movie is more interesting.
You know, I'd rather read about somebody's hobby, or personal obsession, to whatever degree it goes, than read about what they think of some politician or President or Prime Minister. That kind of thing seems like a room full of people trying to shout louder than everybody else, everybody in the room believing with awesome conviction that they are right, that they have some magical insight into these matters. The ridiculous part is that everybody in that jammed sweaty loud room are equally Righteous. God forbid they might hesitate for a second, stop to wonder if they may not be right after all. But they can't ALL be right, can they?
Maybe it's some kind of God complex. People think they are pretty smart, it's all quite clear actually, they got it all figured out, and if only they had more of an influence they could fix those problems these idiots in charge keep making. Yes, they know what's best, all right. So why the hell aren't THEY in charge? Why the heck don't THEY have more say in things? It's just not fair.
It also reminds me of a sporting event. There's the people on the sidelines shouting at the players to do this and do that. You'd think the players would know what they are doing. But no. Those big stomachs on the sideline actually have the best advice, if only those stupid players would listen, they would put those superior tactics into effect and subsequently kick the other team's arse.
What the hell am I doing talking about sport now?! Must be going wacky. But hey, that reminds me of an excellent thing my friend The J Man said about sports fans. He said (to paraphrase): What the hell are those people doing spending their entire weekends following sport? Have they already committed the Bible to memory?

Friday Night

It's Friday night. I've worked all week and now I can do whatever the hell I please. Don't even have to go to bed at all if I don't want to. Can stay up all night and doesn't matter how I feel tomorrow because I don't have to go to work. I can drink as much as I please without looking at the clock to see what time it is because it might be time to stop drinking and go to bed ready for work the next day. Tomorrow is Saturday. My time is entirely my own. Don't have to report to the office and boss. Memory of work fades fast. Feel tension leaving body in glorious waves of release. Drink another beer. Bought 30-pack carton tonight and loaded fridge with military precision. It's locked and loaded, soldier. No, it's not locked, but it is loaded. I leave fridge door open marvelling at the sight laughing out loud then go back to videogame. Still playing Final Fantasy X but right near the end. About to beat it for the second time. Friday night I can play games all night. Or read my book all night. I can do anything I please. I am flying, free. I feel pretty damn good, I'll admit it. Enormous smile on face. Anything is possible. The world has opened up its loving arms for me and my joy is so great and surging it bursts up and through the stratosphere.