I sit enveloped in darkness in some random cardboard-constructed hotel room in downtown Chicago. I can’t help but think of how this trip has been an absolute mirror of my life. A string of red flags that I refuse to believe in and continue to march forward – until I don’t even have shoes to march in.
But honestly – when my entire life has been set to maximum struggle, how am I supposed to tell the difference between a red flag and life as I know it? Or is there a difference at all?
I’m alone. Surrounded by danger. All by my choice. It’s always been by my choice. Sure, I blamed others. It’s easier that way. I cheated on such-n-such because she did or didn’t do something. I always had a reason. Always the next shiny object and damsels are never in short supply. Many of them aren’t even aware of what they are.
As I type this out, half of me prays for an answer. One real answer without all the mysticism and endless open-ended interpretation bullshit. The other half sits upright in front of the window facing the street while writing this, hoping for a stray bullet positioned just right. A bit extreme I know. I’m just tired of guessing. Exhausted to be exact.
The lesson I’ve learned over the recent years is that every mind seems to have at least two black and white limits. The amount of room between the following two stages will depend on each person’s ability to handle bullshit. For some, it could be only 2. For others, they may have the gift of allowing more to slide off their shoulders before reaching the break.
First limit – The initial time you stop and check yourself for a quick second -sometimes can have the first intrusive thought about how to solve the problem followed by the question, “Have I lost my shit?”. If you get that far, then yes… You have better than Vegas odds that you have, indeed, lost your shit. Congrats or apologies depending on how you feel about it. What’s important to remember is that you still have healthy options in order to prevent the final limit being achieved. (At least that’s what I tell myself)
The final limit is when everything has come off the rails so far that you no longer care… about anything… because you believe a purely good option doesn’t exist. Either it will manifest as a good choice, but with a shitty caveat, or as just an outright bad choice. I call this depth, “Let’s ride this bitch to the bottom. I want to see what happens.”
There’s nothing in my life that I believe has ever arrived free of cost. I am constantly pushed to the breaking point by my own hand or some random external force. Surviving it. Getting thrown a nice juicy steak as a reward. Discovering the meat is barely edible. When that happens enough, I treat myself instead of continuing to wait for a reward that doesn’t exist. And just as anyone in this position has learned, most self-indulgences are commonly self destructive. In order for us to give ourselves a spiritually positive gift, we would need to have some sort of value in our own being or in the task we completed. Not the case here.
Fixing the holes in our souls requires a hard look in the mirror. Most people I know hate their reflection more than they hate their choices. Rather than choosing to fix the existing holes, we continue to fill the void with deeds and distractions faster than what we believe can slip through. It’s a lie that is not sustainable. Yet I have continued to play the game in hopes of being someone different than what I see when the man in the mirror is whole.
Anyway, my life = this trip = Just enough success to want to stay the course and not give up. Just enough punishment to constantly weigh tomorrow’s curiosity over today’s masochism. There’s never a clear winner.
I’m sure listening to Nine Inch Nails “Something I Can Never Have” doesn’t help the situation.
Off The Rails 