The Wisdoms of the Disconnected

 About Lady See En: There’s a cluelessness there that is Much. Hard to explain. The attitude of “oh FUN!” comes from a wacky goofy personality trait. But also, the cluelessness part. Not recognizing reality. In their politics, as well. Of course. 

The Haves.  If you HAVE a lot, there’s not reason to be truly connected to anything.  And the other aspect, which, aside from comfort travel, is a Fear Quotient. Following whatever the media blows up, as Concerning.  Believing that yes, its time to quell the protestors by applying federal violence-squads. 

“We need to blow it all up and start over again”, she proclaims. That immediately infuriates me. Mainly because this same person will shift the blame of what the current horrible leader is doing, by blaming previous democrats and leaders she conveniently uses as the scape goat. Why is the east wing destroyed? Because Biden let it fall apart, so it had to be torn down. Its all  Convenience Beliefs, lazy lack of intellectualism, lack of a connection with what is truly going on. The inequity and suffering of pretty much the majority of the country is absolutely the most foreign thing on the planet to these types. And there would of course be an explanation that this is because of the last president. The great blame-the-previous-leader trick. It IS a trick, and it DOES work well.  

About the people who blame past leaders, including the underclass, who listen to whatever the current autocrat spews: Don’t get me wrong, I don’t believe  the majority of Underclass USA are whiner complainers. But some… of course… are infuriated the government is not concerned about high costs, high taxes, inability to freely buy enough groceries, make  car payments, gas prices, clothes for their kids. Its a fair set of complaints. 

But most people just suffer along. They pay bills, build up debt, and dream of not having to struggle. The American Dream isn’t necessarily about becoming filthy rich. Its to be comfortable in their life, with kids, house, family friends etc.  To not constantly pinch pennies (now nickels)… to get by. Thats the actual dream.  My friend See En, much as I love her, can give me an insta-headache with her mind boggling, off kilter, disconnected-from-reality views.  I can’t hobnob with her a lot, at all. She lives with her husband in a complete wealth-and-privilege bubble. I am a recipient of her generosity at times. And other times, its vexing.  So be it. 

Into the Void of Not Knowing What the Hell Is On A Persons Mind

 Its a really weird thing, when you think someone is mad at you because they completely dropped off from your shared stream of e-chats.  You send a message and they respond, or vice versa. And then, at a certain point, maybe you blabber some opinion about something.  And? They don't respond. And? They don't communicate at all! For a prolonged period. 

This is where some people would say, "hey whats UP??" to prompt the other person. Or, if you're like me, you might think..."Hmmm... I must've said TOO much. I must've been offensive. I must've..." 

In some ways this could be narcissistic. Or, possibly even needy. I don't know. But what I do know is, when the conversation dangles, and drops off? It can be weird. And it can make a person think, "what did i do??"

The Sucker Within Me

Yeah I'm a sucker. Thats the issue. Its not other people, its that I'm a sucker and fall into the trap of being a supplicant, or a subordinate. Of various people. I allow myself to ride along, and then I resent them for sidelining me. As I've explored this in therapy, I had to come to a horrible conclusion: I do it to myself. There's something in these relationships that I crave. Is it the search for Good Daddy? 

My dad loved me a lot but he was frequently doing more bombarding verbally, than he was "taking in his son."  I have this female friend who I am super familiar with, and yet, somehow sucked into her drama. As if she's the victim of everything. And burdened. This, possibly, could be a Familiar that comes from my mama. More and more and worse and worse, my aged mother is hyper focused on herself, her thoughts, her aggressive opinions needs concerns. Talking to her sometimes, I just get swept away completely. 

So, in some ways I think I have craved these kinds of relationships. With friends, with lovers (such as the lover part may have dissastisfyingly be)... etc.  Its almost like the more narcissistic someone is, the more I want to be close to their flame. Its not pretty. Its not very sane. But, it is the case. Ok, enough self analysis - in my next posts I'll bash people individually, as needed. 

The Screen Writer Writes, for...?

 Yeah, its jerky and judgemental. But I have to conclude my friend Hippie J is not serious about her screenwriting career. It makes me think of how stricken some people are, by the idea of actual success. Including myself. 

Hippie a friend who writes every day, day after day, living off family money monthly stipend... and is in a constant tizzy about trying to find a new agent, trying to get a project assignment finished by deadline to get some other agent... and more.  Its boring to go into, all the neurotic details. But essentially, I think the process of chasing down never-landed agents, of making pitches online, taking classes and seminars about How to Succeed etc... is really a subconscious self sabotage. Because there are many other routes that might be easier - and she refuses them.

I guess I have to be honest and say that I never got over the sting, from an incident of years ago. I was striving to make short films, and to move towards some kinds of expression via video media. Our initial meetup at a Film Makers Social Mixer was nice.  I made a new friend, with her.  I thought it fortuitous, that she wrote screenplays, comedic ones, and I was interested to put people together to Make Stuff - including myself.  

I suggested filming one of her scripted projects, any one of them she was unable to sell. (Which in reality, is pretty much any and ALL projects she's written!).  Her scripts have funny stuff in them, and are written in a strange format that sidesteps a lot of convention. There's loads and loads of dialogue, which I'm sure pleases her to no end. I've been there, I've done that. 

She could toss over one of her scripts, and not have to do much of the work of producing it as a living breathing final film. To me that was a great offer! But so and... anyway... when I suggested we do this filming, her reaction was "OH no - no, I want my scripts attached to 'name' actors. But thanks."

So. 

To me. 

This means, "I plan on going straight to the Top. I have no use for a slow climb!"  And here we are, 13 year later, and she's not even a tenth of a step closer to her goal.  Which again leads me to conclude that she is not interested in Success... but rather, the writing process and the fantastical notion that someone is going to swoop down and note her genius, and bring her on in to hollywood! She does write, every day, so she's no slouch. But its interesting to hear her talk - about how she's going out to LA to meet with producers, and so on.  I'll be dipped in dog shit if she does hit success there. But, I kinda doubt it now. I think I'm just envious of someone who can do whatever they want, pretty much all the time.  So there's that: my personal envies. I guess. 

The Death of Stephanie

 The Death of Stephanie

I'm not sure why it came up again but, something brought to mind again the death of Stephanie Berry. We weren't really close friends, after we left IS293 in 1980. We weren't ever really great friends, either. But she was nice. And she was very sweet and cute. Her French mother was friendly with my own mother, a french teacher. (thats as far as the connection went; they were not great great friends, either). I think Stephanie was the first girl I asked out on a date, over the phone, at age 12.  Rejected!  "I'm dating someone right now" was her answer. In retrospect, I have to wonder if that was a truth, or a quick lie. Girls and women are faced with these kinds of snap-responses time and again. Its hard for guys to face rejection, and I'm sure on the other end its hard to be the Rejector. Either way, she was a nice girl.

Years later, as a recent college graduate working as Administrative Assisatnt at carl Fischer Music publishing, I was on a lunch break, walking casually on Astor Place. This super gorgeous girl my age - 22? - walks right up, into my face. "Kevin Davidson?" she inquires. I'm so blown away in my deep insecurity, to be faced with this gorgeous girl (woman), I'm dumbstruck. "Stephaie B! How have you been??" 

I cannot even recall what I replied. I'm sure I kept my composure, acting the part of someone more secure than I felt in that moment. But all I felt was a completely shattered psyche. We chatted very briefly, and my discomfort was so high that I kind of wanted to get away from her! Even tho, again, she was clearly a kind, nice person. I was just unnerved, and insecure. Off she went, since I imagine she had her own pathway to follow.  To this day i have no recollection of where she was working, living, what she was doing... etc.  

Then, in my early 50s, I stumbled upon her obituaary. Its mustive been one of those moments where I was doodling around the internet, and by happenstance my mind reached into the past, wondering about very random people I remembered from way way back. Phoebe, Simon, Stephanie... and up came Stephanie. And obituary. Died of lung cancer.  I was stunned. Horrified. Intrigued. 

She had had a life that started with film school, and ended with her designing accessories, specifically scarves and winter accoutrements. And had had a husband, two children she home schooled for a stretch, a thriving network of friends revolving around her community, a children's theater group she founded, and other interesting activities that plugged her in to Doing Things. 

She was diagnosed with lung cancer in 2015 and died in 2019.  How could Stephanie, or anyone with a good heart, be taken down by cancer? Her obit said she spent stretches as a bartender and hostess at clubs in NY, around the time she approached me on the street.  Did she smoke herself silly then, and lay the foundation for lung cancer that way? Or was it just luck of the draw, no particular reason other than renegade cells that ran through her system into her lungs?  Impossible to know. 

But there is one thing I do know: I felt utterly disturbed in trying to ease my mind, in themoments I had stumbled upon her Legacy.com obit. I wanted to turn to someone who might know her, from school. But the only other person i could turn to, schoolfriend Herbie, had himself died, in 2015. Herbie had coked, drank,smoked, and eaten himself silly, to drown his own psychoses, destroying his heart. He was obese and inactive, taking care of his mother while working the phone through the night. he was doing Debt Reconciliation for a credit company... and at age 50 continuing to drink and coke whenever possible, as if he was 21. Forever 21 sounds like a fun aspiration, but at age 50, there is just no way to keep one's body level in the face of drugs and booze and overeating... unless, I suppose, one was to routine run five miles each morning, to clean out the systme. Even then, the odds are pretty stacked against a person.  All this to say, there was no turning to Herbie, to talk about dead Stephanie! Because Dead Herbie was gone, as well! 

The worst part of losing people that are connected to us, is that they take with them the Connections. And the stories. The famliars with our pasts, and with the peoples from the past.  Somewhere in there, I'm flashing back to my own past, by msyelf, perhaps trying to figure out just who I am now. Or how I might have lived my younger life better. Not to have chased down the one that I likely had no chance with. But I suppose, if I could redo anything, it would be to not have been so insecure and easily thrown, as my younger self.  I'm not sure my current self at age 60, is all that much better. Maybe I'm better at hiding it. But, I'm wistful now, and I'm able to beat myself down for not living some aspects a little better.  Maybe there's still time.   I won't know... till I know. What am I waiting for?

The Flail of Emotions

There's so much drama there.  For her, for me. We're not at all connected on a romantic level, so some of it is even more vexing. I can't always tell which person I'm going to get when I deal with her. A large part of it can be traced and connected to the pot smoking. There's a lot of that.

And there's a deep reflection, self-absorption.

I also wanted to let you know that back when her mother and then father in quick succession died... I spent a long long time on the phone sympathizing, listening, being a good friend. I am not at all sure and in fact am sure, that were the shoe on the other foot... her position would be, I'm so sorry. Now lets move on. 

Actually thats not really fair, but thats how it kind of feels. Like, "ok you have your shit together, I need to have us focus on ME."  And of course, I fall right into such traps.  Thats MY issue—to be drawn to these types. Well, so thats how it is. 

Get There Whenever

I don't know what it is, for some reason hippie Jay has to make it a point to arrive late to everything. She even tells me she's going to be there at 7, but to expect her there at 710.  What is that all about? 

Well I will TELL you what its all about - its self absorption.  If you have to be somewhere, to meet someone(s)... be there at the appointed time.  She has a month of Sundays - in fact, a YEAR of sundays, since she hasn't worked an actual job since the 1990s.  So.. what is it that is keeping such a person back from being ON TIME??? Weird shit, far as I'm concerned. 

Oh the quirks of the human being. I'm petty for cranking on about. But certain things hit the bell- Ding! Red flag red flag... 

There's such a thing as "acceptance". I'm just never very good at it. 

What About My Facebook Posts??

What About My Facebook Posts??

 For some reason, two different friends of mine have been all up in arms, about the fact that were not getting "likes" on social media.  They posted images, they posted videos, only to find that they were getting 2 or 3 "likes".  As opposed to, 457 Likes.  Or even 85 Likes. No, they were getting a feeble anemic response, and frankly?—thats well earned.

I just have to ask them, "do YOU surf around the internet and LIKE posts from people? And what are you actually DOING that might bring others into the fold of your amazing offerings?"   Somehow these friends think they can post things, and suddenly the Worldwide Internet of Facebook will race to their page, and support their creative offerings! 

Naturally, both of these friends have a tiny tiny HUMAN circle of friends, and they are not interested in reciprocating for others what they expect FROM others.  Its so appalling, that I had to write, to vent it out.  Is anyone READING this?? Please "like"! - hahahaha

 MC and JD and the two dollars 

I stood there watching as two friends argued about whether one of them paid back the other. Two dollars. 

 Whitney's emotions are off the rails

I don't think i've ever known someone who has such a hard time dealing with their own emotions.  I mean on a level that I'm stunned. Because I feel them snapping back and forth, abruply. And it can be quite a scary thing.

 Everything Negative and Only Negative

Yeah so this lady i worked with, very vivid in her complaints and conversations.  I'll call her BPE.  She loves to be upset, and outraged, but when you point out The Positive, she skirts right around it. She's getting let go from her job, yet she has secret freelance work and will be on a severence salary for 6 months. So really she'll be making much more than she was making - a salary, and the outside work. And, they offered her a fulltime job already, at the place that its giving her frelance work. But she doesn't want THAT, no no.  I'm in the same boat, having lost my job from the same institution. 

So I am attracted to the Complaints, like a moth to a flame. And, in fact, am more fascinated, because she is a fountain of woe, a fountain of complaint and upset.  This seems to be a pretty strong attraction on my part, throughout my life. Positive and upbeat? Not as interesting.  Complaint and negativity?—I'll be right there. I hate it, and yet I love it. As Andrea always says, if its not one things, its your mother.  I learnt well from my own parent, a Comfort Zone.

When I try to pin down the details about oh you have WORK now, suddenly!-she doesn't want to talk aobut THAT. She wants to talk about how everyone screwed her over, they have no heart, she lost her job, no on else in her dept got cut...  negative negative, victim victim.  Her boss actually did call her6on her very final working day (of the long slow 60-day wind-down), to wish her well and say an official goodbye. Dotty is the name of her direct boss.  But BPE would only focus on what a horrible person Dotty was, prior to this goodbye.  

Obviously this inability to see Some Positive points to an unhinged quality, emotionally deranged and feeding on the most outraged and upset part of her core.  Even while, she's doing fine and so on.  But since i myself am drawn to that, am I any better? Clearly I enjoyed and was faascinated by this disturbed outraged passionate person.  Its kind of interesting.  What do I get, from this? Something, obviously! I can't say its just her, thriving on the negative. I have to certainly be enjohing the ride!! 

And I'll feel cheated once she gets herself all set up, and starts to scold me- for not brushing myself off and walking off my own situation!  

See how things will turn? She'll be UP, and I'll end up DOWN.  I can already see the writing on the wall: that I listened and listened, with fascination, but in reality it was all a ruse. She was just venting nonstop as a nonstop victim. But in reality, she was fine. and will be fine.  And I'll be sinking slowly into my own depression.

Ah well.  So be it. 

 If I Had A Dollar...

If I had a dollar for every time D wanted a favor, something made on the computer for him, money, a videotaped session, to listen to his endless streams of nothingness that are all about his own fascination with self... I'd have a LOT of money!!  I know what's what, and yet somehow I'm riveted and feel like I need to comply.  While my Inner Voice says... NO!

 the Lady at the Laundry

well basically I was doing my laundry, and brought a crap ton of mags to go through as i waited my laundry to wash... and then waited more for it to dry.  Lots of cheesy entertainment magazines.   I got my coins from the crabby unpleasant attendant, quarters for the dryer.  I shoulda known better, but... 

When I was done with the mags, as I got close to the garbage by the door, I turned to the attendant. "Do you want these magazines, I'm gonna throw them out."

The looked at me with contempt and disgust.  "I don't have TIME to read MAGAZINES. You think I have time?"

Um, no. 

So I tossed the magazines. 

But I remember her contempt.  

i tried to give her something, and she gave me something: A Memory.

 Sign the Paper!! 

I have a funny memory, going to the movies with Amy.  At the two dollar theater, where they'd show second run movies.  This when movies were what, 12-14 bux a pop.  So people would just go to whatever movie, without regard to anything.  It was two dollars, to sit in the theater!  

Remember, this is way before streaming existed, the late 1990s.  People would pay their two dollars, and just pop in, and if they felt like shouting at the action on the screen, they would. 

So anyways, this movie I'm at with Amy, Air Force One, is about the president's plane taken over by hijackers while in flight. Harrison Ford's the president, and he's sneaking around trying to outwit the hijackers, as we all expect old Indiana Jones actor to do.   The defense dept catches wind of the scenario, and urges VP Glen Close to authorize shooting a missile at the plane before it does damage. (Remember, this is PRE 9/11, so the very notion of hijackers commandeering a plane for something like that was HIGHHHHHHH fiction!)

The Secretary of Defense is hanging over VP Glen Close, 
"Madame President... we're going to need you to sign the paper, to authorize the missile. (beat) You're going to have to sign the paper."

VP Glen Close is unsure, and we're sitting there with the tension of the situation. 

When the movie was over, Amy was in a state: horrified and traumatized. 

"The guy next to me was brimming with rage. It was scary."

The guy to the right of Amy—i was completely unaware—simmered with rage, at Glen Close's hesitation to authorize shooting down the hijacked president's plane. 

"Sign the PAPER, you stupid bitch!" the guy next to Amy had blurted out. 

Lucky for me I was two seats away, and I could happily munch on popcorn without even knowing that this had occurred. But today, I relate it back, to you.

 Seeking Narcissism

that'll be my book title for my essays all about myself haha.

I only say it because I realize more and more, I'm drawn and I crave... the narcissist.  I guess its something to hide behind, be fascinated by, and maddened by as well!!  i seek the big self absorbed persona of these people, yet its unhealthy to try to get something from them.  because they're super wrapped up in themselves—thus the term Narcissist! 

Oh but they LOOOOOVE me - because I seek their heat. 

Its all bad, man.

DIGITAL ALBUMS HAVE NO LINER NOTES

 Sometimes I'll listen to an indie station like WFUV ( - plug! - ) via web, and peruse their playlist while a song plays... selecting the song track and selecting SEARCH IN GOOGLE, watch said video, and google the artist name by itself to find out simple stats (which comes up as a wiki blurb w photos)...

Then i'll go further if interested by logging into Allmusic.com - the amazing site that tells you everything under the sun about the band, their members, their albums, etc. - and see what their origins and trajectories have been.

And sometimes I'll go to a lyrics site like MetroLyrics (or whatever comes up). This is basically akin to the old-school system, where we'd yes sit down on the couch with the liner notes! -- except that now its more A.D.D.-driven, and web-surfing-based. But its still happening while the music plays, just as it did years ago.

I find it more engrossing and entertaining to do this than to watch tv, or even to watch a simple music video -- altho it involves a bunch surfing around.

But I love it!! - when I have the time. Its a true Discovery Session for me. The information, the pictures, the histories... they're all there, on the web. Its truly amazing.

Not sure how this TunesMap compares, but maybe it will have a similar vibe. "Its all good, man!"

Every Relationship Seeks and Finds Its Level

 Yeah i remember going on a bit with Danny about some tortured aspects of my relationship with Louise.  "Every Relationship Seeks and Finds Its Level", is what he said to me.   His response was fairly dispassionate.

You know how some people get animated, and get into the drama of others? Its not that he was non-gossip person, at all. But in this instance, he just stayed completely neutral, bordering on blasé.  

"Every Relationship Seeks and Finds Its Level"??  What does that mean??

Just what I said, kev—"Every Relationship Seeks and Finds Its Level".

In the end Louise and I broke up, and interestingly/tellingly, that transpired around the same time he, himself, got divorced from his wife!  

Yes, another banal story.  File it.

Musings of a Dullard

I choose to hang out with weirdos, so I get what I deserve.  Looking in the mirror, I am that weirdo myself.  People like Becky tell me don't hang out with pigeons, hang out with eagles. But I like eagles as much as pigeons!

Now I'm at a point at age fifty something to have to draw boundaries.  Go on the offensive to let people know where too much is too much, because my choices of friendships have included people who stomp boundaries.

Remembering back to when I had to cut Durkac off.  "You never do this for me, you and Mark have your little clique and don't include me..."   He never understood my cutting him off.  And I couldn't explain it to him. "why did we stop talking during that period?"  it was perplexing to him.  But really it was because he is self-obsessed and has a litany of upsets how he hasn't been cared for. But care for others, does he? Mmmmm no. 

To me it was about how everything was not enough for him, how he resented not being given enough.  it seeps into every aspect of his life.   I was unable to see it in this way, at the time. or articulate it. So I couldn't explain it to him. 

Given a chance to do it over again, I'd have said, "you suck the life and the humor out of things very often, and its a drag.  You want people to take care of you but you don't do anything for anyone else.  Have a nice life.  Or call me when you're ready to be as generous as you expect others to be towards you."

But that was then. 

And instead I am left with my bitterish rantings.  Or my psych self-evaluation. 

Nine Eleven

Originally publish 9/14/17 

My little cousin asked me about 9/11 and if i remembered it and if its important to remember.

So I sez to her I sez...

I hate to be one of those people that says, “oh I remember when….”

But I do.

Living in Brooklyn at that time, I woke up late for work, and raced around to take a shower to get ready.

I heard a loud boom, thinking it was a giant canister being dropped. My apartment window was open, but I was still getting dressed and so on.

Then I heard ANOTHER loud boom, that sounded different—less like a giant steel canister dropping, and more like a long, loud grumble of thunder. Was it raining??

I HAD to look out the window.

What i saw was not only blue skies but, the most beautiful day ever! 

On top of that, it was primary day for mayor, so I had to race to the local school to vote.

Dressed and ready, i ran outside, and saw an incredible blue sky, almost GLINTING with sunlight! 

I found out later that it WAS glinting—the sun was reflecting off of tiny bits of white ash, in the sky.

There were cars lining the street by the school where voting was taking place, and these parked cars had their radios blaring out their windows. Parked, blaring the radio. Why!!

I didn’t bother to hear what they were saying—i assumed it was all about the election. And I thought it was a little obnoxious to have them blaring news radio like that.

But later found out it was all about The News of The Attack; I just hadn’t bothered to try to hear what those radios were blaring.

When i came out from voting, I looked up in the sky. And there were massive clouds of blackness. Large strips of smoke were pouring into the sky from manhattan, pouring over from a mile away. 

I stopped someone randomly—“What is that smoke?”

“The world trade center is on fire!! — Go down the street and you can see!!”

I shambled down the street and saw a view of the buildings across the river.

These were large, iconic buildings. Very spottable, from all over the city, and in fact even from any passenger plane window. 

The twin towers were symbolic and dramatic. 

And now?

The two towers were BOTH on fire! - just as those people had told me, minutes ago.

Flames were spilling out the sides and up towards the top. 

All I could think was, “How can they possibly put THAT out? That seems insane. Fire is coming out from all kinds of places, the buildings look torn open!”

There was six of us in that spot, viewing that fire across the water. A small cluster of people, commenting and ahhh-ing, like characters in an existential novel. Making comments, quips, and largely staring at the burning buildings in silence.

One guy sitting on some brownstone's steps behind us said, “It was planes. Terrorist planes.”

“What?!” I said.  “Planes?”

“Yes. Terrorist planes.”

I knew right then and there that that was wrong, completely impossible, and just so off-base and ridiculous, I nodded and didn't say anything in response. Why would that happen? Terrorist planes?  Come one. How would that even be possible?  Never happens — and I was sure that that man on the steps was completely paranoid, insane and just one of those weird... I dunno... conspiracists? In an age where that was not even in the public discourse; he was a conspiracist or tale-spinner of some kind!

I ran back home, to put on the tv news.

Not only did they CONFIRM that it was two terrorist planes, but they showed the planes hitting the buildings!—over and over and over. And they repeated that footage, for days.  They showed the buildings collapsing from the fire, and over the next 60 days we in New York watched the firefighters battle to extinguish the fire that continued to burn the wreckage, on the ground and under ground. It was terrible time, with a smell of smoke and demolition filling the air for months!

Its been really really hard, as a New Yorker, to have had to hear the repeated warnings of terror. To have to see the families cry every anniversary for the loss of their family members. Its very very sad to see but yes we will always remember, no matter what.  And yes, of course it is important.

But I also hope we stay equally compassionate and caring towards sufferings in other nations, as well as our local neighbors, in our local communities.  Personally, if I lost someone in the attack of 9/11, I would have been devastated. Emotionally destroyed. Probably for the rest of my life.  But I think its important to mourn and try to move forward.  I think over time we will always remember this day of loss, and day of history.

Its not a memory that I cherish, but it is one that will remain in me for life. 

This Ones Depressing

Lots of mixed up feelings lately. Reached an age where I wonder what my path has been, and what my relevence is.   Not so comfortable at work any more.   Want out, but not sure how, or to do what.

I have lost several important people, friends, etc.  Its a shrinking circle of support now, smaller and less to fall back on.  As you get older, the whimsical fun times are a little more "appointment based".  And its just a little less ... i guess lately less mirthful for me.  I guess thats a sign of some level of depression.

I am taking stock of what my life's been about, what I thought it would be, and compare myself to others, not good.   Hopefiully can dig out of this ...