Exhausting
I hang on the tightrope of sanity with barely any familiarity with the concept. I climb the bell curve towards the average and what’s expected of me, only to slide down, slipping on the rocks I made wet with tears.
Melodramatic ain’t it? I must be pretending. I am, for sure. That’s the problem. That’s the whole problem. “Fake it till you make it” gets tiring after a while. “Oh, how I love my quirky uniqueness” gets old. I don’t wanna be unique. I want to be a brain-dead drone collecting pollen for my Queen. No pain receptors in them, no “why the fuck are we even alive, and what’s the point? Why are we running? Where to? What do we want as a species? Why the fuck can’t we work together, for fuck’s sake? Why do we think our side is the best when just the concept of sides is stupid as shit? Are we chimpanzees in the jungle throwing shit at the enemy group? Or are we fucking civilized animals with a brain that can think before we open our fucking mouths?” You know. That kinda stuff. They don’t have that, the mindless drones. They hate and they laugh and they do their fucking job and they die. And that’s it. I wanna hate and do my fucking job and die. Sounds easier than whatever this is.
But I slide down. Wallowing. Is that the word? Is this the world I have to live in? “No,” of course, the heavens boom. “You can always not live,” the heavens say. Thanks, heavens. Very helpful.
But what if I like it here? What if I like looking to the side and saying “Oh look, a fucking thing that flies! Holy shit! What’s it called? A bird! Wow! And what’s that? A humid? Oh, a human! Wow, look at how smart it is! It even has a language and stuff and throws its time on this planet out the window — which it invented, by the way; it invented all there is, even the idea of time — they throw their time alive away watching tiktoks because they — humans — found a way to monetize the concept of attention and created something so addictive that after a few hours of it, it makes them forget even who the fuck they are! And why? Just to put some more money — which, again, humans invented — in the pockets of some people who are not poor, not middle-class, not millionaires, but billionaires, of course. Wow! Humans, huh? Fascinating! And what’s their thing? Oh, their brains. Really? These people?”
What if I want to watch that and be mesmerized by the paradoxical insanity that it is to be the most intelligent being in the entire (known) universe and, at the same time, have the brain of a monkey, a brain a machine can hack more quickly than it can hack the machine; even if the machine is just by crunching lots and lots of numbers and giving it colorful candy? Oh, marvelous brain sugar, come to papa!
What if I have hope that one day, someday, sometime, things can be better? What if hope could be enough? What if the tightrope wasn’t tight around my neck, but pulling me up the bell hill, to safety? What if there was no hill at all? What if nothing else was expected of me, except for being one more soul in this world — preferably one that doesn’t hate itself for being unable to do what everyone else can do so easily?
I want to hate people, as any normal human does. You! You, reading this. I hate your fucking face, you piece of shit! No. It doesn’t work. It doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel logical to hate another being of my own species. How do you guys do it? Teach me your ways!
Oh, life’s not easy for you either? Why didn’t you say so before? That solves it! Thank you. I feel much better now! Finally! I conform! I’m normal! One hundred and a thousand forevers normal. And I’m crying staring at a cold screen in the hopes the coldness will embrace me forever because I’m super fine and happy and gay and nice. Thanks for sharing. You are exactly like me and I belong and I’m happy now. Thank you.
Goodbye. I will go take my medication now. I will take drugs that change the chemistry of my brain so I can do the role that is expected of me in the society we share. I’m going now. Don’t worry, when I come back, I’ll have no feelings at all! And I will be smiling from ear to ear. Because my anxiety and my depression will have been solved with drugs, which is perfect. Okay. Bye now. Goodbye. Bye bye.
No, you hang up first! No, you! Okay, I do it.
