Smelling fire

What the fuck.

That’s all I can really manage to describe my situation. I intellectualize it, I rationalize it, I try to motivate myself, I think as though I’m my therapist or my older, wiser friend. Nothing. I’m left holding a giant What the Fuck?

I could add up all the things going wrong but that feels pointless. I could talk about my shining moment of clarity yesterday -clarity about this "path" that I am supposedly on. This magical unicorn that evades me and I only catch a glimpse about twice a year, but when I see it I believe. It’s like religion, which I hate. As a teenager I developed a very carefully constructed sense of this "path" and how it would save me. Every now and then a random synapse firing brings this back to my consciousness and I have faith again. Faith in myself and my all encompassing awesomeness. Flicker of a roman candle. That’s it.

I don’t have a developed sense of self so I can’t possibly have this path that explains and directs my existence. I barely know my name. Maybe none of us do, But I think that most people have contracted to separate themselves from this part of their brain that whispers how little they really know. Most people have agreed to play along, to make moves, to pretend. I’d really like to be able to do that again.

I’ve turned down two job offers in the last two weeks. I question my sanity. I said no thank you, I’d rather find that unicorn, you’ve seen it right? In the bushes that one time? Over there? Right. This society is constructed to make me feel stupid for trying to be happy. I’m convinced it takes more to make me happy than a normal person. More depth, more richness, more genuine beauty. More.

I’m not always this depressed, I swear.

I have these moments of outright joy. Blind optimism. Moments where I believe the things my mother says about the world. Moments of faith in things. Moments.This is not one of those moments, but it could be, an hour from now, a day from now. It’s just not something that’s supposed to last. Have to think instead about the beauty and privilege of suffering. The innate worth of it all.