Days have turned to weeks and months. 2 months have gone by.
Time has taken on a strange dimension. It feels like I am floating through time and space, not knowing real from unreal, in a dream like state. There is no aim, objective or direction to anything. All is ok. Nothing is terribly desirable or undesirable. Nothing is too important. As I detach myself from the events that have occurred, I feel distanced from everything else too.
Recently one of his dearest friends wrote to me to say he recently celebrated his 23rd birthday for which he had a couple of gatherings, one casual and another formal. He said, “I missed S [my son] for both of the events; for his sheer sense of fun for the first and his intellect and show-stopping one-liners for the second. It occurred to me that already I have lived three more years than he did, at least in body. It just reinforces the general absurdity of life; this is why we must learn to laugh at ourselves and our condition. The human condition is intrinsically absurd. Robert Mugabe, Henry Kissinger and Donald Rumsfeld are still living and breathing and presumably reveling in their hateful world views but many of us, such as S or my father, have their Promethean heat extinguished early and yet did nothing but strive to spread love in our small, conflicted world.”
Absurd and random. That’s the drama of life. There is no logical sequence to it. It is not supposed to make any sense.