To sleep, to dream

Sometimes I feel bad that I care about nothing. That I am inspired by and fortified by nothing. I feel nothing, I have nothing, I am nothing.

So I feel bad about this, sometimes. I think of ways I can be better. Little ways, big ways. I end up losing my motivation pretty quick. It is easier to care about nothing than to care about something. I’m good at it, I’m good at caring about nothing, and also, this way, I don’t have to pretend as much.

(Because I don’t like pretending. but I do it a lot. in fact that is the way I live my life, pretending all the time. so maybe I like it after all? I don’t know, doesn’t matter. It all feels the same to me anyway.)

I was not pretending when I cried through the last episode of joe pera talks with you. A few nights ago I’d never even heard of this show, and now, tonight, this first Friday of fall, I am crying and filled with such love and tenderness for this sweet, quiet, goofy little program.

So to recap: Real life? No feeling. Make believe life in Michigan? I’ve never felt more deeply in my entire life.