The Edge

There is a certain point at which a mind is pushed so hard that it can’t do anything except push back. Most of us have felt that way at some point. The frustrating thing is that it always happens at the moment after we think we can’t fight anymore. The unconscious mind takes over, and we realize that yes, we do have the strength to keep going, but we will have to do so with the knowledge that no, we can’t have every last little thing we want. I’ve been around long enough to know that people who stick to their guns and keep going for no reason other than that it beats the alternative do occasionally get a pleasant surprise. But never when we ask for it, always after we’ve accepted that life just sucks and moved on to something else. It’s like sleeping–it happens only after we’ve brought ourselves to look away for just one moment.

I’m very tired. The irony is that in spite of my fatigue, I can’t sleep. Most mornings, I wake up feeling tense. That should not happen. I have one goal in life and one goal only: to wake up every morning not feeling like shit. So far, I’m failing. Have you ever thought about how truly difficult that is? Some people make it through their entire lives without ever being truly awake. I’m having trouble falling asleep. Those two problems are interconnected, aren’t they?

I am, as I have mentioned in God knows how many posts before now, very tired. Time and time again, people invite their way into my life and tell me that I’m not doing something correctly, that I should really consider doing things some other way if I really want to be happy. I don’t give a shit about happiness; I give a shit about freedom. Whenever somebody tells me that all I have to do is accept their way of thinking, I am reminded of that one episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation in which a Cardassian tortures Picard for the entire episode telling him that he can have whatever he wants if he just says that he sees five lights overhead when there are very clearly four. (One of the best Trek episodes ever, by the way.) Why won’t I take the “advice” of the parents/friends/random douchebags on the street who “just want to help”? Because there. Are. Four. Lights, motherfucker.

Well, that’s enough of that for one day. Let’s talk about something that never gets old: killing people. I went on Facebook this afternoon and learned that some asshole had shot up a bunch of people in a Sikh temple somewhere. As of this moment, that’s all I know. Maybe I’ll read about it in tomorrow morning’s paper. All I know is that I’m very depressed, and sometimes, the best way that I can combat that is by insulating myself from the outside world. That is not sustainable. At a certain point, I must be able to interact with the outside world whenever I need to. It’s wrong to be scared to check one’s email for fear of finding yet another passive-aggressive message from a relative asking if you’re all right. I am. Or I will be, as soon as people stop asking me that question. I’ve talked about most of this before. But today, I’m really fed up.

Neil Gaiman once said that the part where writers start to worry that they’re revealing too much of themselves is usually the part where they’re starting to get it right. I hope that’s true. I’ve banged out four posts in the last week, talking about everything from my history as a movie lover to my masturbatory habits. (If you’re related to me, please don’t read that last one. I like to pretend that my family members don’t even have genitals, let alone sex lives. A stork left my siblings and me on the doorstep and my parents just like living together. You get the idea.) It’s still not enough. I was hoping to take a break from blogging today, but my brain won’t let me rest. How do stupid people do it? Sometimes I tire of being so brilliant and ambitious. I wish I could just watch an Adam Sandler movie and vote Republican. Sure, I’d have to sell my soul, but at this point, I don’t think it’s worth much anyway.

I’m not a religious person, but there are moments when I wonder if someone isn’t looking out for me. A couple weeks ago, I typed out an email to someone who I’d been meaning to connect with, but never gotten around to. The Internet went down while I was writing it, meaning that when I hit send, the delivery failed. In retrospect, I don’t think I wanted to connect with that person, and probably would have been embarrassed if they’d read my email. Was somebody looking out for me, or was it just a coincidence? You be the judge.

So yeah, uh, don’t give up, believe in yourself, and most importantly, remember that no one is going to pick you up after a bad fall. You have to do that. When you finally do catch a break, it will be when you’re not expecting it, rather than when you’re desperately trying to convince yourself not to expect it. Life’s funny that way.

Also, try not to die. That’s good advice under almost any circumstances.


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