Time is a sort of Paste

I was going to write something about I don't remember what, but I was just now catching waves at a surf beach and my mind has been cleansed. It feels like my loose ends have been tied up, there's nothing more to say, I have nothing to add and I’ve got all my ducks in a row. Imagine what it would be like to always be in this state of having no worries. Right now, thanks to a beach that won’t exist in five years, it would take mental strain to come up with a worry and some further effort to worry about that worry properly. No wait, that's one.

As an expert in depression, anxiety, panic and hysteria, melodrama, theatrics, overreacting, overdoing it, dwelling on the past and stewing on shit that's not even my problem, I've tried a lot of things, done some drugs, attempted to expand my horizons but I have to say no mind altering drug I've ever taken has the ability to slow down time like an Australian federal election campaign. We are a day or so into it and it feels like a million years has passed. The official  Worst Prime Minister announced the opening of the gates of democracy hell and the future, the past and the present all became dickheads.

And I haven't even been paying attention that closely. I'm going to need a lot of physical activity, a  lot of moving my body around, lots of being in nature to the point where I am at the mercy of nature. Being battered by waves, frightened by currents, threatened by riptides, a lot of realizing I'm the only one at the beach so I start thinking about sharks, to be able to maintain some kind of cranial strength in an information environment where the worst hot takes are coming from the people we rely on to explain politics to us and the most sober assessments are delivered by anonymous accounts on Twitter called cumcat69.

I do though feel the Ukraine invasion and how it is discussed has softened my brain sufficiently that I can let the experience of time dissolving into a gently glowing psychic paste sort of wash over me? I wish.

There are highly paid commentators who are paid the big bucks to quite specifically be out of touch with the little people. They frig themselves into a frenzy over political micro-nonsense that if I mentioned it to you in real life, face to face, you would turn and walk away quickly because you realise I've been replaced by a robot, a clone, or worse, a me that has become dangerously normal.

Fuck me sideways, we live in a world of high technology that manages to be not even interesting and fast paced communication that even sucks the joy out of hating the people in charge. Now that I obsess about it for a moment, I'm not sure there are enough waves in the world to sustain my sense of magical realism. And if I have to come and live in dogshit normal reality with these turkeys I'm afraid I'm going to have to join the police force so I can at least be a respected sadist.

If China was to invade this country I would immediately sign up to fight, just to avoid the way people talk about it and their conspiracy theorizing and I wouldn't be particularly choosey about which side I'd fight for. I say “fight” but really, put me in a foxhole, tell me which way to look when I'm pulling the trigger, I'm ready to hand in my badge as a thinking citizen and become some kind of moron. Hallelujah.