Hand Me Down Gloom!

I have had my share of existential doom. And Gloom. Probably a cheap American-made imitation of the original from John Paul Satre. My existentialism is just a poorly made copy of that great French nausea delineated by that great French original. Yesterday, the doom, gloom, and unique uneasiness came in waves. Powerful, all-consuming, overwhelming.

So yes, my existentialist doom may be a "hand-me-down," but it is mine.

I could not put my finger on the reason. I mean, yes, the universe is expanding, the world is a roiling ball of confusion - we are a planet of wars, fires, drought, pestilence, floods, varieties of every kind of human violence, stupidity, intolerance and injustice.  But hell, that's NORMAL! Standard operating procedure.

So, yes, I was roiling and boiling inside with emotion. I could not figure it out. Could not pinpoint a reason, a cause. So I convinced myself that something really, really bad was about to happen. To me, or to some one dear to me. Waiting for the end of the world, waiting for the shoe to drop, waiting for the bad thing to come down. Waiting for the fickle finger of fate to poke me in the eye.

It didn't happen. The moment never came. It was just another day of deep unease. And then that uneasiness just slowly ebbed away. It dribbled out. Disappeared. I made it. In one piece. Empty this morning. The storm has passed. And I wonder, what the hell?!