Let's all feign sanity for the sake of morality!
This week's theme is suicide. Why not? I want to explore what the fuck suicide is, and how it pertains to me.
Have I contemplated suicide? Sure. I'm almost positive everyone has at some point or another, but the seriousness of the contemplation varies.
I'm not sure I'll die of natural causes.
To be honest, I've always expected a violent, or at the very least, premature, ending.
Why?
Various reasons, a lot, really.
I live life how I want to live it. I know that sounds cliche, people really like to throw that kind of ideology around like it fucking means something on a larger scale; it doesn't.
I'm just not smart enough to be society's bitch; not completely anyway. I just can't, I'm incapable. We live in a three dimensional world stuffed into a fucking box. There are four walls crushing us in and all they have to keep us in is fear and a fucking Chair. 'The chair'. Oh I'm so scared, maybe they don't realize the people they're dealing with?
I haven't really feared anything in a long time. What is there to fear? Fear itself? Why? What is fear?
Fear is an emotion, I know that. Fear is a noose around the neck of the innocent, of the happy, of the living.
I've known a lot of people. I've watched people die. I know what fear looks like, I know what fear tastes like; sweat and blood and honey. Some people really fear death. Some people really fear not fearing death. That's really the scariest thing, isn't it? Because if you don't fear death, what kind of shit life are you living?
The life of a psychopath, the life of the depressed, of the oppressed and the suppressed? Maybe, I don't know. I really don't care that much and people can't understand that.
I don't care! People say that, do they mean it? Not usually. People care, people really fucking care--if they care then why do they say they don't? It's called affirmative thinking; "I say, therefor I AM'.
What bullshit, a crock of shit, nonsense.
Why am I writing this? What is my point?! Get to it, SAY something meaningful and profound! What the fuck, what the FUCK are you doing blathering on? Maybe that's my point, life is pointless, this is pointless. What do you have to do tomorrow? Think about it, errands to run, people to see, lies to tell, people to fuckover and placate and screwover and substantiate. Does it make you happy? Does it make you sad? Does it make you angry? If you can tell; if you could answer those questions, THAT is the difference between you and me.
Fuck empathy. I'm me and you're you. Fuck your feelings and fuck my apathy. What are we? Animals. Ruff ruff.
I really lost it the other day. Lost it? What was it about? Who pushed me? That's not how it works. Everything is internal, I'm internal not external. I am a brain wrapped in flesh, not a heart in a protective shell. I lost it not because of the confrontation or because of anyone but Me Me Me. I lost it because here I was, being passionate and rageful--RIGHTFULLY SO. And what did I feel? Nothing. Nothing nothing nothing, I feel nothing. I felt nothing.
That's a lie, I feel something. Words are so inadequate, really fucking useless. I know a lot of words, use a lot of words. But words alone are dead, meaning with no context.
Nothing is an emotion. Nothing is a feeling, that's why people fucking say it. When you literally feel nothing, what THAT feels like is confusion, because nothing is there, there's nothing to analyze, nothing to compare with, it's like an anxiety attack, being short of breath and drowning quietly without movement or tears or any of the dramatics that make asphyxiation poignant. THAT kind of nothing is what I feel when a 'loved' one dies or something happens that should fucking destroy me but instead I'm standing in the rain on the side of the road fucking contemplating what I'm going to eat for dinner tonight and wondering what's on TV.
That other kind of Nothing, that Nothing is a noun instead of a fucking adjective, that Nothing is incredulity wrapped in a rage so whisper-quiet it's like you don't feel it at all. It's confusion, frustration and rage in a way most people have never felt before. Because it's silent, it's quiet and it's docile. It is so fucking quiet part of you wants to kill it in outrage.
You don't get it. Of course you don't. Some of you will, some of you won't. I'm trying to explain but all I have is words and all you have is eyes.
When you sit a person down on your brand new comforter and put a gun to their head what do you expect to feel? When you watch a man holding his dying dog over a fucking gutter as the blood mingles with sweat and tears as it cascades to the earth like a morbid waterfall, what do you expect to think? Anguish, incredulity, fucking outrage, disgust, fear, Empathy. What?
Now tell me, how do you feel when none of those feelings happen? When nothing you see or do can start your heart again. You're dead. You're a walking corpse. People hate you you fucking freak. Why don't you love me?! Why don't you care? Who the fuck are you?! WHY DO YOU LIE? Why do you PRETEND!? You, my friend, are a monster. Welcome to the club. Do you feel cool? Of course you don't, if you did you wouldn't be you.
What am I saying, what is the point? A literary instructor once said to me almost rhetorically, "Why did the writer write these words, tell these stories, say these things, if they were all lies? Why did he lie, what was he trying to do?" I didn't say anything for awhile, I just thought. I thought of the poignant words, the hyperbole, the breaking of the fifth wall and the overall feeling of frustration I could read between the words and I answered, "He wants us, the reader, to feel."
I've faced death more than once. I have, more than once, had the realization that death was around the corner and every time what I felt was an anticlimactic sort of relief; the kind you get when you're told you can sleep for the first time in days. I don't fear death because all the things people fear of losing because of death, I've already lost. That doesn't mean I'm 'depressed', it doesn't mean I'm 'suicidal' so much as bored. Bored bored bored. If you asked me to sum up psychopathy in one word I'd say "Boredom'. Hell, maybe even 'frustration' would work. I'm curious if anyone felt anything while reading this. My mood didn't change an iota, THAT, is frustrating.
6 comments:
y'know zkm, i read this post a coupla days ago and i thought, wow, this chick is going through some shit. i can't say a thing to her. Then i went through a shitty time, and now that that shitty thing is behind me, i can relate to this post. It sucks. It is numb. Nothing matters.
with me, this numb irritability turns around on itself too often. i always know there is a better thing around the corner. By comparison, I mean. It's like the reverse of Murphy's Law. Wow that is depressing, making Murphy's Law your friend. No suicide.
Sometimes it's good to let some steam off, even if it's only in writing.
I do it myself, and you've seen what kind of crap I sometimes come up with.
But you ask if I felt something when I read your article?
Well, I think I was wondering about what you felt. I can't say I've felt exactly the way I think you describe here. I've never 'felt' numb or unemotional, f.x.. But what does it matter what I feel, we're not one person after all, and it should be about understanding, no? That's how people somehow "connect" or what it's called.
I'm glad you write, ZK, because I do have an interest in other people. Okay, not many, in fact very, very few. But one of the things that has raised my interest in you is that I know you're intelligent, you very often have some great insight into things that most people think of as 'alien'. And I also like about you that you're only judgmental towards the stupid, the inane and the self righteous. That, at least, is something we most certainly have in common.
But hey, we have lots of things in common, that's pretty obvious from many things I've read from you.
I don't know what to say about going through such periods as you describe. I've met people previously who went through something like it, though not quite the same. You're unique, but then, you know that. hehe.
One more thing: Have I contemplated suicide? No, I can't say I have, But I know it's a very real possibility and that to many people it will be the thing they ponder at some point.
In many ways life is truly pointless. But there're so many opportunities too. You know, it's up to us to make our personal, little, single, life worthwhile. I know that doesn't help much when you're in that certain kind of mood.
All I can say is this: Things will change. Thay always do! always! No painful silence lasts forever, believe me!
Good luck, ZK, and hang in there!... '^L^,
I wrote this for a few reasons. One was because a reader accused me of being overly apathetic and unable to express convincing emotion. Two was because I actually have been irritated lately. Three was because I rarely write in this persona, it feels good.
I am not really suicidal in a general, sad sense. But when I mention suicide literally it's usually in reference to death by cop, death by chair, death by 'justice', not necessarily at my own hands, but by my own choice.
I find your temperament interesting, I always have. You are a very pearly 'path, which makes me curious about your real world interactions. I generally portray a very humorous, snide- but good natured person around others. Always smiling, always laughing, yet that is a very specific mask miles away from how I am naturally. I even pretend to be a bit of a half-wit. Some people would be surprised to know I can read Green Eggs and Ham without pause.
You've never felt numb or unemotional before? I have, but it really feels good to me. I know it's backwards and I should post about it, but really it's more difficult than you'd think to write about yourself in a way that isn't asinine. At least for me.
I am usually very flat-effect, and so, anything I may feel, feels good to me. I am often confused at first, exactly what I'm feeling, but then I realize "Oh goody, it's an emotion!" and even while I may yell or express upset in some way, I am smiling inside. Literal pleasure at feeling something. And as far as I can tell, I've not met anyone who can relate to that oddity of mine.
I have been reading your blog for about six months now, and the thing I always wonder is "Do other people think this guy is crazy?" To me you seem perfectly normal. Doesn't everyone put on masks? Are there really people out there that are just what they appear to be?
As for emotion I just recently began exploring that. I always thought I was an emotional person, but I'm beginning to realize that I have two emotions. I am either content, or I am angry. I am never truly happy or even sad. The only thing I don't relate to in your posts is the longing to feel more emotion. How do you miss something you've never had?
You intrigue me. I keep reading for the possibility that there's someone out there that "gets it". Yet even as I read each new post I wonder if your writing is simply another mask you're hiding behind.
Anon,
You do not miss anything you've never had? What do you miss then? What you lost? Do not we long to visit some places we've never been, not the places where we always stay in? It's sad that you do not know the feeling of true happiness or sadness.
It's like a pepper, emotions could be excellent spices in your life. Life is like a shit taste insipid dull food you do not want to try anymore without seasonings. The fucking creator may have forgot to season my life? Or, he may have seasoned it TOO MUCH. Anyway, don't you agree that life tastes so... tasteless/shitty sometimes?
Hmm,
hmm
hmm.
I've read several posts, including that of your childhood. I can relate to this in this way - I had a trauma happen to me, it shut my emotions for almost a year. I could not feel emotions at all - usually, I am balancing between irritation and euphoria, but every emotion was gone. I could not force myself to feel anything. I was supressing. Seeing your words about your childhood, seeing it in my mind, I can only say that you got burned by people who were supposed to protect you from such burns, betrayed by them, destroyed by them, so very much. I do not see you as a monster. It is amazing you could survive in such conditions. You just adapted to what was there around you, and that is how your brain was formed. I too do not come from a happy home, which in no way I can compare with yours, because your childhood was exceptionally traumatic. I keep struggling with who I am, because it seems I can do anything, be anyone, naturally. I don't know who I am. But, I think, I feel emotions... hmmm. I'm weird and confused.
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