Why can’t monsters get along with other monsters?

I sometimes wonder, or I suppose I’m secretly hoping for this, whether or not every human alive right now… well I wonder if everyone is suffering from the same ailments. Suffering. Don’t the Buddhists say that all humans suffer? Like… constantly? Because of wanting things? I think that’s what the Buddhists say anyway. Wait. Let me try and be clear about things for once.

I’ve been in a weird place the last few days. The weather has been looking fairly apocalyptic, and people are seeming further and further away. I’ve been listening to music that talks about death a lot, and the end of the world. I am depressed, I think. But not for no reason. I am depressed because the world is sad. Or. The world appears to be sad, appears this way to me. So I’ve been staying very quiet. Not smiling much.

Thinking about going back to Portland, and remembering that I’m still going to have the sadness even after I get back there. I’ve traveled a lot, and I’ve had great times, but I’ve also managed to be depressed in every place I’ve ever lived in or visited.

I’m thinking about December 21, 2012. And how I really hope, despite the absurdity of all the speculation, I’m praying that something massive happens. Some global shift in consciousness perhaps? Or maybe this solar/polar shift that all of the douchey non-scientists are swearing by? SOMETHING. PLEASE.

I have a cousin that posted something on Facebook about how she went out for some “retail therapy,” or whatever. And this made me sad too. I wonder if all the consumerism is making things better or worse. I guess my gut says it’s much worse this way, but I hate being so pessimistic. On my last day off, I had the house all to myself. No friends around to go out with. And I kept thinking all of these bad thoughts… I want to go buy a camera. Or maybe I should get a tattoo. Or maybe I’ll get my septum pierced again. OR maybe I’ll go buy a bunch of junk food… It was terrible. I didn’t do any of these things, but I’m still guilty. I probably masturbated 6 times that day.

Anyway, this is why I think (and why I’m secretly hoping) that everyone feels this despair that I feel. We go shopping, we drink a lot, we fuck a lot, we complain a lot. And I’m not sure too many of us really feel like admitting why we do all of these things.

But my assumption is that we all feel very empty inside sometimes. And not like a fleeting sometimes that just happens when you’re having a bad day. I think the sadness, the emptiness, the aloneness… I think it comes to all of us when we’re by ourselves being quiet for too long. I think when we get enough time to remember too much, that’s when it gets us.

Here’s my guilt: I’m white. And American. And not starving. And not doing much to help anyone else. And I don’t really feel like doing much to help anyone else. I don’t like my job, and I don’t care about it very much. I like the people around me, but that’s mostly because being semi-affable is less illegal than stabbing people, and I think being a murderer would make me feel like a shitty person. I feel guilty for being a man, and I feel sad for all of the terrible things that men do to women. And then everytime I look down and see that my penis is not inside a vagina, I feel guilty for being a pervert. I am fucking guilty. And these are things I can’t help. So this is all happening before we even start thinking about the moral crimes I’ve commited over the years, the ones I’m still struggling to forgive myself for.

And then the non-guilt-related sadnesses: People are solitary. We don’t tell each other the truth very often. We don’t love our neighbor. We don’t kiss under the stars enough. We don’t dance in large groups for no reason. We don’t take daily naptimes on a big squishy floormat like in kindergarten. We are constantly bumping in to each other, but we are rarely together.

So. These are things I feel a lot of. But I have the suspicion that there are a lot of people out there who have similar things going on. And I’m an idealist. So now I want to talk about the things I wish existed more. For me, specifically, but I wish similar joys for everyone else. But yeah, I need to have some positive thinking time now, because this post is all too gloomy.

I’d like to have a few jobs. Not job jobs, but things I do to make money. I’d like to get paid for writing things, whether that be books or magazine articles or something. I’d like to play experimental folk music in a band that plays shows around Portland, and maybe we can tour the coast a little, or just go play a week of shows up in Vancouver, B.C. I’d like to teach people things, maybe not as a professor, but… I don’t know. Maybe I could just teach some people something. Maybe someday I could be that high school history teacher that changes lives without ever realizing it. And I’d like to have a group of friends that is grown up enough to enjoy an informal dinner party with some beers and vinyl records, but childish enough to arrange a drunken kickball game every once in a while. I’d like to live in a house with a couple of friends, or maybe a girlfriend. A nice little house with a yard and a big ol’ front porch. But this house is close to everything. Like is South East Portland, maybe Belmont and 30th area? Something good like that. The house will be clean inside, and cozy as fuck. And there will be textures that matter. And the atmosphere will be conducive to making things. Music, paintings, sculptures, meals, hand-carved bookshelves, technicolored scarves… all of these things can be made in our happy home. One time, I took some red paint and I put it on the wall around a window, I made it say “Love lives here,” and I really like the idea of doing this again someday, only in a place where love does actually live. I want area rugs and a lot of pillows. I want people to feel comfortable if/when they sit on the floor. I want to never drive a car again. I want to never see/smell another car ever again, even though I know that won’t happen. I want to have friends that enjoy sipping whiskey and listening to The Silver Jews and The Carpenters and Television and The Commodores. I want to get a cute dog that behaves 90% of the time, but also acts like a fucking spaz after I get home from being out all day. I’d like to smoke joints while mowing the lawn or digging in the garden.

I just want some beautiful things in my life. Not beautiful things that I observe from outside of the loop. I want my own beautiful things. I don’t have to own these beautiful things, I don’t have to control them… I just want to be an active participant in making them and preserving them.

All of this wanting that I’m doing, I’m sure it’s not extremely healthy. But I think it’s gotta be better than “I want a big house and a fast car and a plasma TV and laser hair removal on my pussy.” Right??

So, of course this came out unclearly and rantily. But I’m wondering if anyone agrees? Anyone care to admit just how sad they are? Or how sad they think the world is? Anyone at all? Beuller…? Beuller…?


About R. Spacely

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12 Responses to Why can’t monsters get along with other monsters?

  1. risha; says:

    This hit me rather hard, like a soul-punch.

    I don’t know if it’s because my disillusionment is taking over or if it’s because I’m just tired all the time; but I know that all those beautiful things that you’re talking about? They’re all possible. I see it. I see it in other peoples’ lives and the thing is, I want it too. But that means I have to stop drifting, stop floating and being to strike out. It means stepping up to the plate and it means making it happen. And I don’t know if I can do that.

    But I really, really, really hope that you can and that you will because you know the love doesn’t just live around window sills in red paint.

    • This was a very hug-worthy comment, Risha. But I think we’re both doomed to be happy in the end. It’ll be okay for us eventually, even though it’s sometimes all sad eyes for now.

  2. Essie says:

    I guess i get it. I spent the last week feeling like I’m drowning. I think it’s town life, the asphalt, the people…it’s crushing. But I had a moment when I decided to take my mom’s shitty little dog for a walk around the dam right outside my house that I never seem to want to leave anymore, and there were white lilies and white pelicans and the whole place smelt clean after the rain and I was like, “Oh, yeah…THAT’s here.”
    I dont think we’re meant to be indoors. Or to entertain ourselves to death with music and TV and Internet.
    I’d like to – for that matter – drink beer on the porch more. And paint shit on the walls of my house. And eat jerk chicken from my fave Jamaican place that closed down. And kiss someone. And be 18 again. And shake that feeling that nothing has been really “right” in my life, except for brief moments that seemed to flit away as I grasped at them.
    But maybe it’s about letting go of those wants, too, and just living in a moment.

  3. I used to be sad every day. Sad about everything…now i’m only sad every now and then.

    I want to kiss in the rain.

  4. Tom says:

    Great post – I think I’m in the same boat, but I’ve always assumed that’s how I’m supposed to feel at this time in my life. Not that that makes it any better. I probably won’t make any sense at all here, but I’ve started thinking that these things we do that depress us, the things that aren’t good for us, wanting the things it’s not realistic to expect to have, we do it because we’re impatient for that future and fed up with having to wait.

    At my age my parents were married, with cozy house and kids whereas my life is still one long hangover and destined to continue being so. Their lives had purpose and stability a lot sooner, but nowadays some of us spend longer being empty and flailing about in the dark. Until one day you realise you do have a reason for being here, and you can have the cozy house and crazy dog, and all is well.

    Yeah, no sense at all.

  5. cupitonians says:

    I overheard a bunch of teenagers talking about how the only catastrophe 2012 could bring is if twitter becomes as dead as myspace. That made me really sad.

    1. I totally misunderstood ‘myspace’ and thought for a minute that despite them mentioning twitter, they were talking philosophical things about personal space and shit.
    2. We’ve disconnected so much that it’s so hard to find a nice person or strike a conversation with someone unless you’re hiding behind a social networking/online dating site or even blogging. I wish someone would call me in on my bullshit and allow me to ‘say’ all the shit I type. Know what I mean?
    3. The only thing that’s stopping us from showing off to the world that love lives here is ourselves. We’re a bunch of pussies and big time bullshitters and if we ever come to this self discovery, we close up and run.

    Now I’m depressed as fuck but you’ve given me food for thought! Thank you :)

    • Well, I don’t know. I like to believe that we’re coming into a time where people are changing and evolving and hopefully some of these things will get better soon. I don’t know. Maybe 80% of humankind needs to be wiped off the planet, and then we who remain will start doing shit the right way? Maybe?

  6. krystal says:

    I hope nothing happens like the end of the world on Dec. 21 because that’s the day before my birthday and dammit, i need a good birthday this year finally. k? and a lot of what you wrote resonates with me, the whole solitary thing. it’s true

  7. Nicholas says:

    I can definitely empathize with this post. My personal guilt comes from wanting all of the things that I want. I want to buy tons of shit that I don’t need so that I can make music that other people really won’t give a shit about. I want plenty of things I don’t need. And I’ll keep wanting them, regardless of feeling bad about wanting them.

    I think the important thing is to just keep your head up. So long as you’re actively trying to be/feel/do awesome, you’re on the right track. And so long as you remind yourself that you ARE being active to be awesome, you’ll be (generally) happier.

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