I’m feeling kinda down & out rn. About the existence of humans. It’s so goddamned pitiful, and yet suicidal thoughts are something to be ashamed of. I think people must be downright delusional for not having dark thoughts. I wonder if there’s a depression version of Chicken Soup for the Soul, because I’m always skeptical of the happiness other people project themselves to be. Everyone looks gilded when you ask them how they are. I know I do. Whenever someone asks me why I’m not smiling, I can’t help but wonder why they’re not screaming.
And don’t get me wrong, I can accept the human condition. Part of me is vaguely curious about how I’ll handle old age, and if I’ll stick to the convictions I have today. I just couldn’t bear to accept fully the world we live in. I worry about getting treated for depression, because I worry I’ll get brain washed – or worse, persuaded to give up this realistic outlook on the modern human condition in return for becoming a grotesque again.
“I want to live an honest life”~ And the thing is, sometimes I feel SO happy. Everything is beautiful and sacred, even the mundane and the empty moments. But, other times, I just can’t seem to connect with that part of myself that sees life so optimistically. I just feel restless and discontent and a mild type of frustrated that only depressed people could understand.
I know the cycle. I’m down for a while. I don’t feel like smiling, or even getting out of bed sometimes. It goes on indefinitely until one morning, I wake up and the sun is shinier than usual and it doesn’t sting to open my eyes. My coffee tastes like ritual, instead of everything tasting mildly rotten. And then I say the things that Evan says and I actually mean them this time because I’m there. I’m experiencing love for every human and their struggles and joys. I’m like a God.
But now? People tell me about their lives and I wait for the punchline. They’re the insane ones for being so okay with the world that we’re in. I remember reading about the changing middle class and the oppression of the masses in school, but it only recently occurred to me that I’m one of them. I had some idea that being an American made me something like a king – true in a worldwide context, but in the big picture, I’m the 99% being exploited for my body and libido to keep a world that favors THEM going. I don’t work for myself, I work for people with money.