A Lucid Dreamers Contemplation

There is this overwhelming sense of futility that seems to blindside me ever so often. I find myself full of thoughts, overflowing with intention and without the means for these things to manifest into action. I even begin to question why I fill my head with these thoughts? I venture out into the depths of cyber space to post a few hallow rants on the state of affairs in which we live. I do so, only to have them collect dust and stagnate. I provide myself with one-sided discussions. I egocentrically fulfill my unexplainable desire to speak and act as though I am some sort of positive progressive humanitarian do gooder. I pretend I will make a difference by expressing a few opinions to a seemingly non-existent audience. I am in fact laughing out loud to myself as I sit here and contemplate the extent of my vanity. Where do I get off thinking I will make a difference? Many far more intelligent, charismatic, well-intended people have come before me only to fall short of making even the slightest difference. Perhaps instead of pathetically attempting to be the reforming revolutionist, I should play the game by the rules. Dance the self-centred jig to the tune of our money hungry society. I think I will work my corporate job raking in the cash, walk quickly past the homeless teenager to my luxury sedan and drive my ass back to the suburbs. There I will watch my TV making sure to flick quickly by the horrifying news stories from around the world muttering from time to time, "sad stuff". Watch my twelve millionth re-run of the Simpson’s and then go to sleep. Take into account slight variation from day to day, rinse and repeat until I am 65 years old. At which point I will find solace in my ability to complain about how corrupted society has become and how things are not like they used to be. And that will be that, due to a hereditary heart condition and my poor nutritional choices from sheer lack of concern.

Game, set, match … society.