Funkalicious

There are several words in the English language that are just fun to say.  My personal favorite is arugula, but we’ll leave leafy vegetables for another entry.  The word I have in mind is ‘funk’, and if you don’t think it’s not a fun word to say, just say it around my mom.  She’ll shoot you that, “What did you say?”look.  <he he>

All this time, I thought funk was used in one of three ways.  The first to describe a type of music (music that combines traditional forms of black music (as blues, gospel, or soul) and is characterized by a strong backbeat*), a type of slump (I’m in a funk), or this year’s TPC winner.

But I did not know until today the true definition of funk, according to Merriam-Webster, is a state of paralyzing fear or a depressed state of mind.  It’s weird because I had never heard the word defined that way.  A state of paralyzing fear.  So when science books talk about fight or flight, they really should be saying fight or funk.  Kinda’ gives new meaning to the phrase, “Get the funk outta’ here!”

But I am going to stick with the ‘type of slump’ rendition of the word, because that’s where I feel I am.  I am rattled and confused because I know what I need to do in an effort to get out of this funk, but I just can’t.  Part of the problem is that I just don’t care anymore about much of anything.  Life is one big, perpetual “whatever” situation. <shrug>.  The other part of me does not want to let go of dreams and ideas and desires that I need to.  It’s like when you move in with that perfect girl and she makes you throw out your baseball cards.  You know you have to, but you really don’t want to.

So I am in one of those rare situations where I truly don’t know what to do.  I look forward, backwards and sideways and nothing makes sense to me.  I can’t escape the gravitational pull of the black hole left in my chest; however, I know that if I don’t try to press forward, I will just wallow in this funk for what may seem like a lifetime.  All I can say is this funking sucks!

So I fill my days and nights with distractions.  I go out with the guys and try to have a funkadelic good time, but it’s all for not.  It just doesn’t seem that there is anything of substance out there for me to find.  It’s as if everything meaningful is behind me. From conversations about repeating mistakes to keeping arms-distance to closing the door shut, I know I am looking at the road ahead of me with nothing but anxiety.

So will I accept the situation and move on, or will I sit here secretly waiting and wishing and hoping for some more?  I really don’t know, and right now I really don’t care.  And sometimes I wish I could escape it all.  Just get on a bus or plane and skip town.  Just bounce on out of this place.  That being said, does anyone know how to get to Funkytown?

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