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…?