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Saturday, December 7, 2019

The IWALLK Essays - 6. Post Surgical Blah

Some of what I'm dealing with is an almost absolute disinterest in everything. I KNOW that the world is falling apart and I care less than I ever have—though my supposed intention (mission?) is to turn it around. I have less faith, less optimism, less hope than any other time in my life. And it isn't even depression. I just simply don't care.


My struggle is trying to find out whether I SHOULD care and who obligates that "should" aspect of caring? I'm tired of human obligations and expectations. They are hollow and meaningless to me now. I went to what (in essays to follow) will be called "the Faraway Place" during surgery. It was a place where I could choose to come back here or not—but it certainly was NOT heaven. 


When your chest is ripped open and your heart is exposed to needles and grafting, it isn't a big leap to then realize that shutting off the entire system is not only possible, but perhaps, wise. I chose very specifically NOT to die. I don't give two shits whether anyone believes that or not. 

Still, here I sit in the fetid, festering swill of a world that manifests as a sleeping human, cartoon reality, by comparison. I'm trying to motivate myself, while simultaneously wondering why. The mostly unconscious child-men and child-women I see out in public each day don't care at all that everything is circling the drain. 

They do stuff just to do it and be seen as doing it. They follow unreasonable, stupid, habit-slavery, and believe that wishful thinking and faith in human-made and human-maintained religions, or science will do all their spiritual and intellectual heavy lifting for them. “Smarter people (who, in reality, are simply RICHER people)” will surely tell them how to live their lives. No need to think for themselves. 

Shit, thinking would require waking up. It is a world where Facebook memes are used as philosophical guideposts...THIS after a thousand years of hard-won thinking on the part of a tiny minority have carried all human thought through the mists of ignorance and oppression. All forgotten now. 

No. I don't have hope anymore. However, I DO feel a higher obligation. It is one that I agreed to in that Faraway Place. And, whether it is a moral failing or a psychological rationalization wrought by the actuality of coming back and walking around this putrid kingdom of human failure... I have no other reason to be here, but to TRY to find a purpose for myself before I die for real in ten years. 

In the spring of 2020 I will have decided where I'm going and what I'm doing. Until then, I apologize for bumming anyone out.