maybe this year doesn't have a happy ending
“Except our own thoughts, there is nothing absolutely in our power.”
― René Descartes
Someone has to say it… This year sucks.
January was both yesterday and 17 years ago.
I have no power in this at all. I am helpless. The only advice I heed is Descartes. The only thing I can control is my mind. “I think, therefore, I am.”
I am constantly numb, wandering around in my own thoughts, lost. I don’t know what to do.
I’m beginning to resent things, and resent people. I judge behind my paper mask.
When I wake up in the morning, I’m still tired. I don’t want to get out of bed. I have to force myself to wash my face and snap out of it; control my thoughts, the only power I hold.
I douse myself with hand-sanitizer out of fear, making sure it’s over 60% ethyl alcohol.
Here’s a very small list of things that are keeping me sane:
Animal Crossing
Embroidery
Painting my nails
My cat Mo
Hamilton the Musical
Notice how all of these activities are inside. Because I hate it outside. I hate everything about it. You can’t convince me to do anything I’m not comfortable with, and I hate that about myself. I resent this year for making me do this.
I’ve mentioned before on this platform how I don’t believe in destiny. Nothing is destined and everything can be your choice. But suppose it isn’t. Suppose this is our destiny. Like the Capulets and Montagues, we are bound to each other fraught with an ill end. Who knows. I’m being melodramatic.
Shakespeare wrote, “All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players.” That’s what it feels like. We are the actors in this play. This world is the stage. Only we don’t know how the script ends.
I don’t know how this year ends. No one does. Maybe I don’t want to know.
-memento mori
