Ragged Wisps of a Monday
It was a Monday again — you know how those are. The days that never really seem to end and yet at the same time are ending all the time.
I am fully of the opinion that adults are not privileged to experience joy. The ignorance of youth and irresponsibility shields us from so many things. Plato never included in his allegory of the cave that, once you left the cavern and emerged blinking into the sunlight, not only did you gain the wisdom that nobody else had, but you lost the innocense and shield of ignorance that protected you from the harsh reality of the world. It’s a mixed blessing — with adulthood you gain the privilege to do a great many things, gain material and financial goods, and do things that affect the world around you. But you lose so much in the process. Never again will you be able to ignore bills. Never again will you be oblivious to the condition of your living quarters. You will never sleep soundly again, completely relaxed because someone else is watching over your ass. You will spend years searching for something that will bring back that happiness you once had as a child and you will never, ever find it, because that happiness and joy was buried in ignorance — it was manifested in what you did NOT know. There’s much truth to the phrase, “What you don’t know won’t hurt you”.
After doing this “adult” thing for several years now, I’ve given up on the hope and idea that things are going to get better. Sure, I still struggle to try to make it that way, but who am I kidding? The most I can do it make it easier, perhaps, but something will come along and screw that up, I have no doubt. It’s one of those things that as soon as you get ahead, you immediately get whammed backwards. Money seems to be at the root of a lot of it, but not all. Even if you are one of those lucky bastards in the world that has $METRIC_SHITLOADS of money at your disposal, there’s something else in your life screwing it up. People getting sick and dying. Accidents hurting and killing friends and family. House/car/appliances/electronics breaking. Data being deleted that had no right to disappear. Your sewer backing up. A plane crashing into your house. Natural disasters wiping out all you knew. The list goes on.
Many Christians (and others) believe that life was created perfect and degraded to this point due to sin/disobedience/etc. I really don’t think that anymore, although I used to. At this point, I think life was made this way, sad as it is. It is simply the program and God is the coder. I’ll laugh if I find out he uses a Mac. Wait. Of course he uses a Mac.
Don’t get me wrong — there are good things in life. Things do shine out once in awhile. Love is a big one that seems to do well, although it has so many different forms that threshing it down to the pure grain of love is damned near impossible anymore. There are others, but again, like love they are so tainted with impure emotional weavings that it’s hard to separate them into a meaningful form. You can’t hardly find anyone or anything that is happening in the world today that doesn’t contain some sort of motive behind it. We are nice to each other because we don’t want to be alone. We woo the opposite sex so we can get laid and have partnerships. We give to charity because it makes us feel better about ourselves and because it’s a tax break. We take animals in our houses because it amuses us. We profess beliefs in gods and religions so we save our own ass (if any of it is true — right?) Naming something that has zero alterior motive behind it I leave as an exercise to you, dear reader.
And yet, interestingly enough, I still feel motivated (somehow) to keep doing stuff. WHY? Really, why? I have NO CLUE. None. If I spend an entire day sitting on the couch and watching the tube, or laying on a blanket in the sun and doing nothing, I feel like a schmuck. I have a feeling I have some sort of mental condition, like mild OCD or something, that motivates me to do things. If I didn’t, the rational mind would sit back and go, “Ah well. Fuck it.” and do nothing, I would think.
Now that I sit here and cogitate a bit, I guess I would also have to say that one of the *lovely* things (and I say that will all applicable sarcasm) about adulthood is that if you don’t do anything, it gets worse. Yes, folks, we’ve truly reached the 7th level of Hell here. If you go about normal adult life and do all that is expected of you, it will suck, guaranteed. If you do NOT do the things you’re supposed to do, it gets worse than suck. So, I guess a large part of my motivation is that — I know it could always be worse, nevermind the fact that I’m in a handbasket and it’s getting warmer.
I don’t know. How does one resolve this everlasting angst?
The best be with you, dear reader, for you’ll need it in the morn.
