I wrote this a week or so ago, probably just to get it out of my head, but re-reading it, even if it's not perfect, posting it as-is seems like the right thing to do. I will not overthink this one....for once.
There's a time in your life when you realize that everything is just perfect.
That the only people who are out to get you are faceless enemies that seem like a world away. You realize that they could literally be in your backyard, but nevertheless you feel safe and sound and at home.
You feel it for a split second and then it's gone as you reach, reach, reach to find it again like holding on to a dream as you drift between sleep and awake.
You chase the feeling like the perfect orgasm, you can feel it pressing to get out and fly free again. You know the moment that it escapes will provide you with an unspeakable elation, one that you can only verbalize as a whisper or a loud, gutteral, physical moan. But, you also know that it won't last. It will be fleeting. You'll mourn it when it escapes you, just a shred of a memory hanging on to the inner recesses of your brain. You hope it will happen again and again, but you can never be sure where or when it will happen again, leaving you maudlin in the space between.
People who are on drugs must get hooked because they only know the artificial, synthetic happiness of that high, rather than the organic, clear-headed high of knowing that you've got it all. I'm sad for them. It's like the mornings when you wake up feeling thin and content and confident before you wash it down the drain in the shower where you begin to plan out a hellish day in your mind.
Jumping seems to have big results... I'm just not a person who jumps and I've always been afraid of big results. I've been afraid that I'll never reach that point again, afraid of the sacrifices that will be made, and the inevitable discomfort and depression that accompanies failure and rejection. The sad thing is with such low expectations, I don't know why I hesitate to jump.
Since I realized that my life is mine to form, to mold, to make something out of, I'm much less concerned about the feelings or needs of others--especially those who are slaving away to accomplish someone else's dreams. There's honor in that, but the greatest honor, the one that brings that orgasmic high is the one that you create by yourself, for yourself.
My Libertarian is showing. But I don't care. I hold strongly the belief that you are 100% responsible for your happiness or your unhappiness. You can't spend your life making other people happy and expect to feel happiness yourself. If you give it all away, what do you have? If you're thinking in monetary terms, you're thinking too simply and there's a chance no one will ever be able to convince you that you're missing the entire point.
Making other people happy and successful is what you do after you've secured your own mask. Get what I'm saying? Be a part of your own rescue and don't forget to rescue yourself before you attempt to rescue someone else. Sure, it's noble to give your life to someone else, but I feel like it's a waste.
