I’m drowning in this feeling of hopelessness. To fully consider an event and the circumstances around it is to live with this dread and panic that not everyone in life is acting with your best intentions. As much as I’ve wanted to think about how my childhood with a difficult compulsory education, where I have no friends from elementary through high school, made me ready to protect myself against betrayal, it really hasn’t. Oh well…?
Nothing much you can do.
When people decide to betray you, what else can you do but accept the financial and emotional burden of their malice? If the money or thing was more important to that person than me, alright, they can go fuck off. If the money or thing were inconsequential, it was a good investment to not deal with the person in ventures requiring more money or things.
What if it’s over more?
Same attitude. Fuck ’em. If writing in this Sober Living column for over a year now has taught me anything, it’s that my sobriety has always been triggered by situations. The only situations I’ve ever been inebriated to any degree where it hasn’t been because of some sort of escape have been because of some opportunity to try something new. Otherwise, it’s always been to escape the current circumstance because I don’t want to accept it.
I look at reality more matter-of-factly now.
I accept that my brain is weird, broken, and the fragments of my old selves all peer in occasionally to say hello. We’re all fucked up. We all want what’s best for ourselves. Some people are just more willing to want what’s best for them than others. It’s just an extension of that acceptance, where, really, there’s nothing more to it than just cutting them out.
I want to live in a nice world.
I want to live somewhere where everything’s idyllic, where there may be brutality but it’s mainly in theory, but that’s not our reality. This life is fundamentally fucked up but it’s through that that we see the shining moments of good. The more we get hustled out of things, it’s not so much the less we’ll get hustled, but maybe the less it bothers us.
I want to separate hard work from hustling.
There’s this short-hand in modern colloquialisms that if you work hard you’re a hustler. It’s a cute way to appear tough. I don’t think waking up early is the same as pulling a confidence trick on someone. I don’t think working on your dreams is the same as pulling a fast one over on someone. If you’re a hustler with morality, then maybe you can have both.
Otherwise, fuck it.
The problem is everyone’s a hustler to some degree. Ever meet someone you didn’t care about? Then just didn’t tell them something? I worked with a guy that hustled everyone, but when it came time for him to pay his dues for his hustling, there was a bigger hustler that needed a little frying, so the small fry squeaked out as the large fry got a little cooking.
My morality tends to be based on the greater good.
Screwing one person over for the greater good isn’t good, either, because there are morals and ethics that your average greater good will consider. You can only escape for so long before your sins come to follow you. It’s just a matter of how much you want to live with those, so when I burn a bridge, it’s with people that have screwed me over already.
Otherwise, people should just have a chance to do their own thing.
Take something away from me and it’s just a good indication that you are not a person worth being friends with in the first place. Take something away from my friends or family and likewise. Don’t be a Worse Ghost, like the one pictured, ready to screw over anyone for some money or opportunity. Be a Better Zombie.
Arise from your grave mistakes to set the world back anew.
|Sources: My personal experiences.|
|Inspirations: Working through some tough shit. I hate how people screw others over so easily.|
|Related: My Sober Living column.|
|Picture: Just a doodle.|
|Written On: September 26th [30 minutes]|
|Last Edited: September 26th [0 minutes]|