Existential Crisis and My Alleged Lack of Fucks
I don’t even know where to start. I haven’t been writing because I couldn’t figure out where to start. So I am starting there. Not knowing where to start is the place to start.
So…
I am full. I am overflowing. I wish that I was overflowing with positivity, overflowing with abundance. Wish in one hand and shit in the other, and see which one gets full first. Alas, I am not. Not going to shit in either hand nor am I feeling very abundant.
I take that back.
I have an abundance of rage. Anger. Feelings of futility and frustration.
I have worked very hard for many years. I am tired. Not only that, but I look at our society, and I can’t understand, on a global, national, and local scale, how people are so fucking inhumane, inconsiderate, and without love, compassion, or remorse.
I have lived most of my life in an existential crisis. I have a very high emotional pain tolerance. I am nearing critical mass. Now, I don’t believe in violence. I have spent most of my life either treating patients or trying to help people avoid becoming patients.
That does not mean that I am not capable of it. It means there are very few circumstances where I would be a willing participant. It always involves protecting others; my response…
