You know, like screwed up?
We’re reflecting on so many people we encounter, in person and their stories as well as in the news, and so often there’s a kind of lunacy involved. That, or plain tragic fate. I wouldn’t even call it bad luck.
Makes us question if anyone’s normal, whatever that is, or makes us see our own irrational failings and emotional struggles as nothing in comparison. (Yes, we still want to be better than those poor unfortunates.) As for paying the bills and that sort of thing – getting to medium income would be nice – though even that is beyond the range of possibility for many.
Lately, in revisiting the program booklets of so many musical performances I’ve attended over the years, I’ve been wondering whatever happened to so much of the rising talent I heard – the soloists or opera singers who never made it to the top, and that’s just one front.
Authors and journalists, too, as the written word has receded from the public spotlight. (No, Fox News anchors are not journalists, and that’s part of the problem.)
Makes me wonder if I’ve been looking at the whole world wrong. Maybe we should begin with an assumption of insanity somewhere in every psyche and work from there. Maybe that was the best part of the hippie outbreak, letting that side somehow out of the box. Dunno, but it was lively.
Of course, it also means looking into the dark side of life, if it’s possible to do so and not become engulfed in evil. That part’s scary.
And here we are, wishing everyone Merry Christmas.