Stream of consciousness.
You ever wonder if you’re really fucked up?
We go through life and we have all these experiences, many of them really fucked up experiences… you ever wonder how bad these things have fucked you up?
For a chronic optimist like myself it’s almost a curse sometimes. You ever become so good at believing your own bullshit that you start questioning whether you’re just fucked up in the head but no one can really notices? It’s like a catch 22. We all want to seem like we have it all together, like we’re on the right track, and expect to be able to relate to our peers in honest ways. Who is the show for? Why SEEM to be anything? I’m smart, ive realized this, and I can speak well and I can just about convince you the sky is maroon if I wanted to. This day in age I feel like a lot of us are good at that. Sometimes though, I wish I wasn’t so good at it. Sometimes I wish somebody would walk up to me and say hey you look like you’re confused about shit.
I’m not good with open wounds. I don’t believe in them. I’m a chronic optimist, I feel pain, I get over it, and I immediately start counting the ways the pain makes me a better person. I don’t think that’s the way pain works though. I think it fucks with us until we deal with it, all the ugly sick, parts of it: Even the parts that don’t necessarily make us a better person. Pain has a way of fucking you up when you try to act like its not there. You let pain thrive long enough and you’ll forget where it come from and why it’s there. But i assure you, its there. I think that’s the worst part. When you get to the point that you feel like something’s missing and you can’t figure out what it is.
I’m not sure, but I could make a really good case that that feeling means the thing you’re missing is a part of yourself you lost. Somewhere along the line, along the pain, and fucked up relationships and tough times there was something you left behind. Some part of you you couldn’t bare to deal with.
Sometimes with loss we focus on the things or the people we lose as we treck through.. We focus on the job we lost, the opportunity we lost, the person we lost, the love we lost, and forget to cater to the fact these experiences can make us lose parts of ourself: Maybe it’s an ideology you lost a long the way, maybe it was some innocence you lost, maybe you lost something you believed in, or you gave up on a goal, or lost your faith in people, or trust… What I’m saying is, i feel like bad experiences can really pile up when you don’t realize how traumatizing and confusing it could be to lose parts of yourself, and how easy it is to not realize it when you’re busy trying to convince yourself it’ll be alright.
I’ve been sitting here trying to figure out how to end this in the perfect way. Well, you know what, I have no grand conclusion or philosophical epiphany that came to me. I still feel just as fucked up as I did when I started writing this. And you know what? That’s life. That’s just the way it goes, so this will be as honest as possible. Sometimes I don’t know what it all means, and today I’m okay with that. Today I’m not going to try to make it sound good. After all, if a tree collapses in the middle of a desolate forest and no one is there to hear it crash, did it make a sound? And does it matter? Who cares what something sounds or seems like if it doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, what should matter to you is you, and preserving all the parts of yourself that are you, and are honest. that inner voice inside of you is what’s going to get you through the most agonizing moments of your life and when that agony comes along, and it will, you’re gonna really wish that you recognize you when you need yourself the most. Today I don’t care that this doesn’t end in a beautiful way or sound optimistic. This piece of writing is a stream of consciousness, an honest slice of my life. Like you, I’m just trying to figure it all out. I’m still trying to get to know me, even the parts of me I’ve lost.