When I was a small child, I can recall bolting upright in the dead of night to think “is this it?” I lacked the ability to explain this feeling at the time. I realize now that we are the culmination of everything that has ever happened. We have fabricated our world from nothing and this, this is what we created…how arbitrary.
We trap ourselves in boxes and confine ourselves to labels, we travel long distances in glorified heaps of metal, we rush through the educational process to dive headfirst into a sea of mediocrity and complacency. Most people don’t even like their jobs right, we swallow poison on the weekends in order to endure them, we spend most of our waking hours doing something we hate just to satisfy the outrageous price tag we’ve slapped on survival so we can exist under the illusion of freedom for a few fleeting moments until we gradually regain our tolerance for tediousness, then we rise as the sun does, slaves of routine shackled together with chains of light across ninety three million miles of empty space; eventually we will both run out of energy and we will both fade away and the universe will continue on as it did before we came here to defile it with our flawed humanity.
Everyone is looking for a distraction. Some search for distractions that help them persevere, others continually look for an exit. We live and die between seizures of the second hand. We look forward, dreading death and fearing being forgotten, but mostly, we look backward, struggling to sift through the haze that suffocates our memories, searching for some telltale indication of where we were and what we were doing, glimpsing nothing except occasional flashes of color, vague shapes and blurred outlines, empty answers that unearth more questions, like dying of thirst in the Pacific Ocean and thinking for a moment that the salt water will save you.
We can’t accurately replicate the past so our first tendency is to regret it. We are unable to accept that now is all that exists, so we allow the potential of all possible realities to pollute our present one.
We want what we can’t have, we speak when no one will listen, we pray to a loving god who puts a gun against our head, demanding we worship him while at the same time convincing us that we have a choice, we intentionally do things that are bad for us, WE WANT TO STRUGGLE AND WE WANT TO DIE, it is our destiny, we were born to die. We love our pain and we love our suffering, we fetishize depression, we wallow in self-pity. Without these ideals, we would be lost. We would have no reason for relief, no contrast to create joy or love or compassion.
So what are you trying to say? We’re fucked? You’re just pointing fingers and shifting blame. You sound like you hate life. You criticize humanity yet you offer no remedies, you suggest no solutions.
I am merely presenting a summary. I am translating what I felt as a child when I woke up in the middle of the night, thinking “is this it?”