#atlascantkanyeshrug

[indigo-ra]

What the fuck are you doing?

I’m an optimist. But lately, I have this overwhelming feeling of dread that I cannot shake. I am not afraid of death or dying. But I am afraid of having lived a mediocre life. I am finally at a point where I can pursue my personal projects independently and it seems I can never find the energy and time (together) to be sufficiently productive.

I try not to make excuses, but there are things that take priority over my dreams, and being a responsible adult, I put those things first, only for survival purposes. There’s just so much bullshit in the undertow. Every night before I go to sleep, I feel an apocalyptic pressure that haunts my very dreams. I always have hope for tomorrow. But lately, I’m having a very difficult time forming a future at all. It feels like a dark cloud stretching over the horizon, heavy with smoke and dust so thick I cannot see through it, I cannot breathe, I cannot hear through the shaking, panic and chaos and the worst part of it is I cannot feel anything but the pain and suffering it brings. While, personally I do not fear the afterlife, for some reason, every time I try and be my same happy-go-lucky self, it all feels for naught.

I don’t question my life decisions or regret anything I’ve done up until now. I feel like I’ve been the kindest I could have possibly been regarding my failures and personal relationships, I’ve lived up to my given name and have been the BEST person I am capable of being, without having to make any excuses. I want to live a life worth living and every day it is becoming a pre-packaged branded commercial ad as if it was ever a choice and if you don’t fit neatly into the options given, you simply are not afforded the luxury of a life even though we all are here sharing this one commonality.

I don’t understand how anyone who is simply already living needs to earn a fucking living. I’m already here. It’s like planting and watering a seed only to have to pay  money every day to watch it grow up. How the fuck is that fair? It is everyone’s right who is alive to live, FOR FREE.

But no one knows what true freedom is. No one has tasted true liberation without it being sold to them in some pre-packaged format or another. The only real freedom that anyone can taste the sweet release of is oneiric in nature.

I live for an amazing dream. Nothing compares to the wonderful freedom of flying and an open world where the surroundings are welcoming and strange while simultaneously feeling all too familiar. But lately, my dreams are also under pressure. In my waking life, I am a skeptical  being. I have major trust issues with pretty much every single person in my life and, in trying to heal and overcome all the tragic reasons for my predisposition, I keep running into re-iterations of the same problems through the same cookie cutter people. The name changes, and so does the face, but  the motivations and general reasons for the hater output is always the same.  

As widespread and predictable as this behavior has become, zombies don’t know anything other than  the fact they want to eat brains. Bringing it to their attention won’t stop them. Politely asking a zombie to not bite you won’t have any effect simply because it’s driven by a basic instinct that it cannot control because it’s of a hive mind. Kill one, and there’s a whole planet’s population left to try and defend against. All the while We’re all starting to ask what the fuck is the purpose? Why do we fight the inevitable? Why do you work so hard to try and have some semblance of a peaceful or pleasant life that’s worth living in a world so viciously fueled by greed and consumerism that it’s never actually safe?

I’ve worked so hard to gain my own independence and some financial stability. Something that has been taught to me as a basic human right through years of schooling, education, TV shows, all consumerism and media combined was so incredibly hard to attain that I had to flee my own country just to have the opportunity for SURVIVAL.

Life’s not fair. We all know that. But I look at these kids and realize the only time I ever felt safe in my entire life was when I was a child. Some people hide this existential suffering under video games, memes, Youtube,and the constant white noise of all the media of this digital age. The contact and social relationships we entertain are as ephemeral as two ships passing in the night. Nobody wants to face the reality of the big question mark hanging over their collective heads, “What the fuck are we doing?”

It hurts too much to think about. Because being one person in a sea of nameless voices makes you feel insignificant. So they run away from the existential dread we all know very well, toward shiny baubles that will somehow make us different from the next person. The question never goes away though. It will follow every one of us to the bitter end, begging for justification with every breath we take to validate the life that is being lived. If for no one else, at least the individual.

What’s really important? Friends? Family? How does one succeed? By living out a dream? If you are afforded the opportunity to accomplish your goals in life and you succeed, how do you  continue to feel fulfilled? Is it possible to master more than one skill in one lifetime?

Not without a fat bank account from birth, and unfortunately, the ones who don’t have to work, don’t see a reason to.

It’s almost paradoxical. How do I master an art or a skill over the span of 80 years when two thirds of my time is dedicated to sleeping and working in a way which is fundamentally exploitative and taxing to my soul? If someone asked me this before considering living a life on Earth, I wouldn’t have a sufficient answer for them. Yet, everyone can identify with this truth, and they all conform to it out of fear of having to face that question “What the fuck am I doing?” with a justifiable answer.

People drink it away, fuck it away, hide it under the chaos of whatever they can find to push it to the back of their hearts and minds, but it’s now becoming the underlying pulse to your dubstep beats and the course of all your dreams, the sky seems smaller and closer to the ground every day and we all feel suffocated and, depressed, repressed, suppressed and oppressed. Even those who are doing everything they can to give the illusion of power feel utterly powerless under the pressure of that same UNIVERSAL QUESTION that everyone is vehemently ignoring “What. The FUCK. Are you doing?”

You feel it too, don’t you? It’s deafening in the silence, and constantly confrontational in every action, deed, thought and word, spoken or unspoken. I know why I’m depressed. I don’t need a psychologist or a therapist to tell me that and push drugs at me to push away what is essentially the underlying cause for every societal malady that is universally identifiable in every single living human being. I know what is wrong. I just can’t fix it alone. It is emphasized that “No man is an island.”and yet “God bless the child that’s got his own,” so we toil at life, trying fill our own individual voids and yet we all fall short, needing the support, love, friendship and general compassion of others and we all feel guilty for that. Because more often than not it’s measured in dollars and cents. We are all trying to be independent in a world where we’re pack animals. Everybody wants to be a brand named “Homo sapien” while striving toward a uniqueness that caters to the widest demographic, and yet remain unattainable to the entire population. That makes sense.... Except… it doesn’t.

So. Sure,  I’m “depressed” but only for the reasons that everybody else is running away from. So don’t call me weird, don’t call me crazy, don’t call me strange or try and put me in some tragic, ironic angsty trendy category, simply because I am facing up to a zeitgeist Tsunami of emotional crisis with my eyes wide open, instead of trying to pretend it’s not happening; and doing it for all of you who aren’t. You’re welcome.