How to Lose Your Self-Esteem in One Minute
The problem with life is that something is always wrong. Things do not default to success. I sat in a room, losing a strategy game to a little kid, not daring to beat him. Which would help him more? I let him have a draw. I tried to teach him something about the game, what little I know. I arrived with my new friend Wilson, who came outside as I walked in, getting ready to vape. He loves to vape, is married, and drank yesterday somewhere in Wisconsin for a festival or something. He is nice and kind and well-meaning and kind of a goofball. He ends almost every message on messenger with “lol”. The misuse of lol is a very serious matter, and it needs to be taken very seriously, dammit. No giggling. I went home and immediately thought about the very real possibility of having a career only to watch it collapse under the weight of bad reviews and worse press. I am mentally ill and streaky, after all, and I have trouble figuring out how to write something effectively. I also want to continue my GSL beat but haven’t gotten around to it lately. Soon.
I really feel like I went home and drove. Don’t you hate driving? I do. The constant need to pay attention gets to me more than the constant chance of horrible death and dismemberment. I love the chance of horrible death and dismemberment love my precious little neighborhood rapist. I drove, listening to too loud music and wishing that rock wasn’t dead. I drove and drove and drove, thinking about getting framed until the year 2,000,000 or so and prevented to come back not because of a crime but because of an alleged “rapey personality.” I drove and drove and drove until I couldn’t handle it, halfway to my destination. I stopped at a second hobby store.
Nothing to do there. I had to make family dinner. I didn’t. I didn’t have the energy to make it home for a wholesome meal. I wanted to, incidentally, go home and live with my parents recently. I spent three hours there and, no, that wouldn’t be a fix. I’m thirty-eight and need to live on my own. I am sick, with paranoid schizophrenia, and I can tell you definitively that it sucks to have voices saying that you are dying for thousands of years. It doesn’t matter if it’s not true It doesn’t work to ignore it. It doesn’t work.
The shocking rapidity of my day going downwards surprised me. I wanted to write an advice column in reverse. How to lose one’s self-esteem in one minute — live life. It’s gonna happen unless you’re super, and no one is always that super, no even the great fictional Superman. The Superman of Neitszche’s myth isn’t the greatest hero of all time for nothing. He doesn’t have fears; Clark Kent does. He is, after all, a normal, bumbling reporter who doesn’t have everything. He’s just an ordinary guy with great gifts.
I lost my self-esteem and my day and played a game of Starcraft 2 and won. I still don’t know what race I play in that game. I have a tournament coming up in about five days and need to prepare. I know that preparation is key to victory. I know that having a well-researched army will help. Then I will lose a game, or my friend will lose a game, and everything will collapse again. I can guarantee you — it’s easy to lose everything. Just live life. Life is a magical experience. It will find a way to fuck you. Just look at Rylan, still fucking dead, and Aaron, still fucking dead.
Thanks, and take care, fuckers.