So, now I am an adult.  And my feelings haven’t changed.  Though I now know that most people do not stick change up their ass; I do know, however, that most people are idiots.  When I was 14, I thought it was teenage angst that supplied my hatred for people.  But being an adult now, witnessnessing how others raise their children and live their lives, I now understand that it’s pretty simple:  people are fucking morons.

How is it that masses are controled by religion and NASCAR?  I don’t get it.  The dumbest people have the most voting power.  What is even more sad and dispicable is the creation of the said masses via suburbia.  Some smart guy during the 40′s understood that vets from the war would be coming back ready to fuck and their women were ready to take orders.  Said men were also inclined to commit to orders, so cubicles were created…as well as the demise of intelligence in the States.

What is even more sick is that hispanics have joined in on “keeping up with the Jones’.”  Small suburbias provide the working class with just enough income to purchase the same bullshit WASPs find necessary for survival.  Said hispanics loose their culture and become simple suburbanites…along with the rest of the NASCAR following, gas consuming, Larry the Cable Guy loving pieces of shit in the world.  

Love it or leave it man…

Something tells me it’s time to leave it.

            Currently, I’m in the Rio Grande Valley (RGV) and, per usual, I am finding myself alone and bored.  However, despite the normal lonesomeness, I am always welcomed by the constant wind.  Wind is the only thing going for the RGV.  I take that back,  it’s the wind and the trees.

            There isn’t much of a “night life” in the RGV, but even if there was, I’d most likely not compete in it.  Despite its boredom, one of my favorite things to do here is trespass.  There are hundreds of inhabited acres survived by citrus and wild trees.  At the same time, the wind never stops blowing.  I’m assuming it is because it’s valley region between Texas and Mexico; but I swear, it is never below 70 degrees here and the wind is constantly in your face!

            The people here are simple.  I remember when I visited this area when I was a kid and it was all farm land.  It has “grown” since then; but mostly into corporate restaurants in response to corporate developers buying tons of farm land.

            There is a missing generation: mine.  It seems as though once one graduates high school, he/she leaves and doesn’t come back (unless it is to  open a new corporate restaurant.)  Despite its missing generation, I am always greeted with a warm “hello” or “good morning” by everyone.

            It’s a simple life here.  Either work for a county ISD or make your own business, complete with half-assed workers with a “take it or leave it” mentality.

            But one of my favorite things to do here, and I’m here for a week out of every month it seems, is to listen to the wind.  I love to trespass in the citrus farms, which are everywhere, and watch the trees dance in the wind.  They always seem wildly free amongst their well-planned rows and columns.  I like to  sit on the hood of my vehicle and watch their tops.  They dance!  It’s as almost they enjoy the goodness they provide.  Along with the wind, they sing!  They sing of the great loves in the listener’s life. But the song is more of a “roar.” 

            I do what I can to listen.  And when I do it well, I hear Lohtse and Jennifer.  I’m always reminded that I’m loved.  It’s as if the wind and the dancing trees are explaining everything I have done wrong…and the means to fix it all.

        I always miss them the most when I’m here.

            It’s lonely out here in the fields.  I can see why the youngsters want to leave.  But the trees dance like no other here.  The sound and sight is absolutely peaceful.

            Being it is where my grandfather begat his family,  I understand the yearning to grow into a respectable caregiver.  The “big city” calls, however the “small town” sings.

            Things seem so much easier here, it’s a wonder why people leave.  Then the boredom sets in, and only someone not used to it wonders why so many don’t stay (if not for the thoughts, so much as the emotions.) 

     I miss my family.  I love my family.  I’m proud of my family

            I have always been weary of being the lesser of any single one of my peers while simultaneously having been ashamed believing that a person can be less than another.  I’m mostly afraid of being less efficient and/or knowledgeable.

            I’ve grown to loathe work.  Well, I mostly despise my current work (as well as how many jobs I must have to keep from going mad) and what I trade-in of myself for its mediocre stipend.  My thirst for literature is gone, as well as my yearning to be creative.  In addition, I’ve completely stopped playing guitar and I write (creatively) very rarely; and when I do, it is absolutely wretched.

            I found myself speaking to a coworker about my jail-time and the “lessons” I’ve learned from it; however it wasn’t until now that I’ve realized that I have reacted completely horribly to those lessons.  Despite what some may think, truly, I am a pacifist.  But quite honestly, up until now, I’ve looked at life as a game solely rested upon an offensive-based strategy.  I’m now realizing this plan has created more obstacles with people and situations than it has resolved.

            I am exhausted.  The strategy (half-schemed by an overly proud, post-adolescent punk-nerd) I have been using is even more drained.

            Lately I have been finding myself in conflict with who I want to be now and what I have actually become, so it’s time for a new strategy.  I don’t need to remember to breathe; I need to remember to actually take some time to smell. I don’t need a plan of attack; I’m much due for a more “relax and build” approach. I don’t need to listen anymore.

  I need to drink it all in.