Isn’t it the usual scenario: you wake up, question the very nature of the day, realize that you are still alive, find out the current state of affairs that you are in, and stand up to further find out how to continue what the old self of yesterday has been doing? It’s a deliberate task of making sure that you get the best of your days while they still last. It is not even the end yet, but you automatically go towards it as if your limited perspective is the only far-reaching sight for the future. Maybe once or twice you cry out: ‘enough! Enough! I don’t want this anymore!’ and the occasional speechlessness, the looming silence as they call it, not to be able to describe the proper words only expressed in listening to familiar music down memory lane or an instrumental stringing of random harmony; or reading a leisure study, perhaps learning something new, a skill, an amateur ability just to get you by – literally anything, not just to kill time but to strike boredom first and face it head on.
The mechanical energy inside you would have to be recharged once again, because the artificial soul that you have put into it has decided to stay calculative and dull, and remain caught up in the eternally recurring passing of days, wondering, wandering, questioning, envisioning, and realizing once again of what a huge vacuum you are in. Everything has to be the same, unless the rare interventions of other beings supervise you, or talk you out of it – but all the more – just the same. But what else can you do? The point is to go on living but if this is Sisyphus all over then what’s the further point? Camus stopped right where he left, Kierkegaard leaped to the other side, Nietzsche growled, Sartre evaporated in his fumes!
Perhaps even the most careless hedonists today are not enjoying it in the end. But yes, the point is to go on living because it’s literally not the end yet. There is no choice of ‘enough’ that can cut through this abyss of reality dragging you down. No, you are just currently held afloat in the limbo of your indecisions and everything else you drag along with it. That longing of a momentary cheerfulness, even just in your dreams to bring back to you at the very least a portion of your smile, is – and I am telling you – not out there, nor in some internal conception of yourself. So kill that old self, turn off the mechanical vibrancy, and wipe out the rusty iron fillings of your reactive heart. You are not going to stay alive forever in that paralyzing state. Wake up, not just smell but live the Apocalypse! Die over and over just to resurrect once more. There are no more insincerities or masquerades – look through the shades of ideology and examine the dead men and women around you walking like trees. You are seeing this not as a blind man anymore but someone who has initially decided to see. And you need someone to wipe that mud away from you. Look, even love has to die to replenish itself once again. Even patience will have to break just to bargain that long-lost trust you had. And remember that even with all these metaphorical corpses talking to you, including myself as a bored mortal who had died a long time ago, even in their less-than-nothing state – they make you feel that you are still alive. That, and the wonderful possibility that you still have a chance at life is enough for you to muster that decision to stay away in that limbo and any space, disposition, vice, cruelty to oneself, unrequited love you think you don’t deserve (you self-victimizer!), mistrust, discouragement, and the enduring cynicisms in between. They, at best, will slap you into what’s going on.
Something will always be missing and you have to search that out – that has to be the fueling purpose of all these simple ruckuses. But again, it’s not out there, too far, or in you. Not too near, but also not that you already knew or have. Instead, a little effort won’t hurt. A little nicety would help. A few good friends are enough. A daily dose of decision is life.