living dead

Christmas is one of those seasons that make me depressed. In the recent five years, anxiety has been my general feeling towards the holidays.

Although a few years ago I would still write a Christmas reflection on how the timeless narrative finds meaning in the confusion of the times. I used to believe those pieces were my theological contributions to the triumphalism of the born again evangelical Christianity that I have distanced myself from a decade earlier.

To sum it up, in my biased opinion: I live a joyless existence.

The sadness magnified exponentially by the 9-month lockdown; the omnipresent threat of contracting COVID-19; the rampant killings; the vilification of activism; the looming fear that we would breach thresholds  that would lead us to runaway climate change.

But beyond that is the personal: the physical exhaustion; the low morale of me and my collective; the recent developments in my personal circumstances that are beyond my control; and finally the paradox of finding meaning and purpose in the precariousness of activism in this current political climate.

I see no hope in sight. No shining light beyond the horizon. I am living dead and living in hell. I wake up to dreamless sleep and open my eyes without any zest for life.

I don't want explanations nor comforting words saying that things would work out well or that there is cosmic meaning in pain and suffering.

Maybe there is--but as far as I'm concerned it is nowhere in sight.

loneliness

 Loneliness is realizing that 

You've been robbed of your youth

Robbed of something you can

No longer take back

If only patience had expiration dates

I live in a house that 

I don't want to go home to

Am I just exaggerating?

But I've lost all zest for life

No hero complex

Just grasping at straws

Imagining the illusive

Better days that

I can't enjoy

amor percussit propter tristitiam

 Sadness eats my chest

The palpitations and 

The feeling that

My heart would burst

You're gone but still there

We're over but you're still here

You're so near yet so far

And all I have are

The memories and tears

Sleepless nights

And Netflix binging 

Lonesome bike rides 

And guitar noodling

Wishing to catch back

That spark of lightning