I've been thinking a lot about the White Picket Fence lately.


I think, at the bottom of everything, that the desire for the White Picket Fence is, in the end, simply the desire for an answer to the question of "what next" that everyone is born with. It is the desire to see the end of the tunnel, to know where you're going at the end of the day. And the trite answer of the 2.5 kids, the minivan (or SUV, if you prefer), the soccer and the PTA, the nights of overworking and playing the role at parties, the house in the suburbs with that god-accursed White Picket Fence becomes a fall-back, the answer to your own personal life's quest. You know that, like the community college in your town of X, that particular option will always be open to you. You CAN join the norm. You CAN become middle-management. And you will live out your life, semi-contented and sort of healthy, surface-happy member of the proletariat, the status-quo, the bourgoisie, the masses.

I'm falling into this black hole...I don't blame the Canadian, I blame my internal turmoil that has no vent, no escape. frustration and anger that boil and froth at every indignity, every ignorant blasphemy the government commits in the name of patriotism and liberty, i take no action and grow more and more enraged with myself and the rest of the world. it exhausts me, makes me think