My entire life I’ve been nothing special. At least that’s what people have communicated to me either verbally or in an indirect manner. Early on I didn’t believe it. I always felt like I was meant to be something more. Something special. I always felt like I was different from everyone else—like I had a greater destiny. The older I get the more I see how rampant self-delusion and hubris really are. Maybe we have to deceive ourselves simply so we can face each day. So we can stand tall on the bad days and feel better than everyone else—even if we don’t think we’re that way—on the good days. Cold hard reality is a real mother fucker though. What do you do when you finally see what everyone else sees in yourself? That you’re just a big pile of flesh that exists for the sole purpose of propping up someone else. That your usefulness is only measured in tangibles. How much can I do for you? How much money can I give you. How much work can I do for you?
There really isn’t much that can be done you see. I’m trapped by age, status, the system—it really feels as if the only true escape is death. I can’t do that though, because death isn’t what I want. I want to win. How do I define winning though? Winning is something that is too unrealistic. Having money and the freedom to escape? I don’t know how to get that. Is winning having the system crumble? No. I mean humanity developed this system and we’re a bunch of self-serving assholes. Even the people that are not that way at first are driven to some iteration of that. I feel it happening to me. Or is that my inner voice lying to me again—trying to make me feel that I am different—something special? You know what is ironic though? You’re reading this right now and you feel all the same shit that I do. So maybe the real question is why are humans so fucked up. Why can’t we just willingly help each other out without it turning into a situation in which one party starts to take advantage of or exploit the other for selfish gains?
As I write this I’m reminded of the theme song from M*A*S*H. The lyrics say “the only way to win is cheat and lay it down before I’m beat and to another give my seat; for that’s the only painless feat.” So cheat. Grab what you can and run with it until you’re about to be caught then just end it. Live and die in a blaze of glory. Some people do exactly that. Some people let their fear bind them. Death is such an easy fix. People fear death because of the unknown. Is there a god? Are we held accountable for this wretched life we live? Is it just nothing? Do we just cease to be? If we just cease to be, its just over right? No more pain, no more thought, no more struggle—nothing. Humans have a hard time grasping what it is to be truly nothing because of our thoughts—because of all the convoluted and confusing stories we’ve been sold since we could reason. Nothing is nothing. No thought, no life process, nothing—just gone. What’s so wrong with that? It’s far better than living with the daily anxiety of being judged by some omnipotent being for how you performed on his mysterious pop quiz on a subject that everyone has a different interpretation of.
Damn you humans for filling us with such fear and insecurity that every single day is a battle. It didn’t—it doesn’t—have to be this way…
Written by Matthew – 2018
© 2018 This Mortal Flesh