Somehow, I have become old, over-educated, under-skilled, irrelevant, and virtually unemployable.  The world is – as I speak – passing me by like a thundering, through commuter train on a really fast track.  Me?  I’m sitting here stupidly on a sidetrack with the other losers, waiting for it to pass.

How did it come to be this way?  How is it that the bright plans and endless adventures of my youth appear to amount to little more than a few curious stories over warm beer?

I used to joke about ending up a pathetic old man, selling pencils and playing harmonica for tips in some alley next to my cardboard refrigerator box over a heating grate.  It was always a distant, worst-case-scenario.  It was comical, impossible. 

It gets closer with each passing day.

We’ve all seen the forgotten and semi-sane, wandering the street looking forlorn and disheveled, muttering to themselves as if no one is listening.  No one is.  Actually, they’re not muttering to themselves so much as they’re muttering at life in general.  But life isn’t listening either, it hasn’t listened for years.  If anything the forlorn and disheveled are merely trying to use their voices – to keep their fading voices – just in case they may need them again. 

Just in case…

I talk to myself more and more lately.. because when I try to talk to others they look at me like: “What?”.  Either I’m not making sense, or they’re not hearing me.  I has to be me.  I’ve become a blithering idiot.  I’ve become soft-spoken and apologetic… I feel like I’m interrupting when I try to say something.  I used to be proud and confident – I was a do-er, a producer, an upwardly mobile man of substance.  The future was all brightness and colors.  Now I see nothing out there but grey and muted earth tones.  Thank god for the earth tones. 

I know that I’m not in this boat alone.  There are many out there in the same situation. We know who we are.  We catch each other’s eye through the rushing crowds.  We nod to each other in slow motion.  But we seldom speak.  We’ve lost our voice.  OS is full of us.  Yes you, don’t try to hide.  I see you out there, I read the desperate words that you’ve written.  We shouldn’t have all this time to write and comment – not if we were constructively engaged.  I mean, get a job for cri’sakes.

I’m not looking for a bunch of pity hugs and warm wishes here, and I’m not offering them.  If I see a bunch of condolent crap in the comments I’ll delete them or shut the comments down completely.  What I’m looking for here is for you to say either: “I feel that way too” or “I know someone like that”.  Because if you feel that way too, then you’d better get off your ass and do something about it… lest life DOES pass you by like a speeding commuter train.  And if you know someone like that, be a friend, listen to them.  They’re trying to talk to you, they’re trying to talk to anyone. 

We’re in this together – the old chain as strong as the weakest link thing.  But just in case, I’ve already scavenged my cardboard box and laid claim to the dumpster near the park.