and the ever present karmic pressure to be
INTERESTING
 and worthwhile and a human who's worth the food that he
 forgets to feed himself
 and has something to wake up to
is weighing upon my soul because
all along i told myself i'd be a Great Man and wonderfully
interesting with all sorts of deliciously varied things to talk about and
do and never bored,
never just sitting around, unable to do anything,
no, never bored.

but here i am, look, just like every other twentysomething
trying to feel like they can save the world,
that they were worth being born, and
 that their life has some substance and meaning.

here we are, funny generation past x,
not really clear where we're sailing to,
not really happy all the time,
trying to remember our fine energy and vigor
 maybe it's something about the stagnant air of the dot-coms
 weighing down like the thick fog comes in over the hills of san francisco
but i never imagined little numbers that mattered to other people
 sinking into me so heavily

and we're helplessly addicted to the net
we cannot pry ourselves from it
it is our work, our play, our life
sometimes feeling a little helpless to make more of it
and those people we mocked for having simple hobbies
 like sailing
 or hiking
all of the sudden seem to have so much more balance in their lives
a peaceful grounding that the CRT does not seem to provide.

staring at pictures of my girlfriend
hoping for a return
waiting for the touch of humanity.