These past couple of days have been slightly enlightening. I’ve been drug free for a month now and halfway through my self-imposed ban of having anything which will mess around with my sobriety. Fucking hell, that made me sound like such a hardcore user. Recreational drugs in case you were wondering. Not that I’ve been having anything else prior to the ban. But this being sober thing has made me more contemplative than usual if anything. Maybe if I was being super critical this lack of stonage has made me slightly more bitter. My remarks have been a fair bit more cutting according to some of my friends, so naturally I’d apologise as it wasn’t my intention. Kinda like a watered down version of Frankie Boyle, ‘cept I’m dissing you right in front of your face. Semi-descriptive foreword of my current mind-frame aside, I’ve learned a few things about myself, as well as having some new outlooks towards certain things and people.
A guy that I knew from university died a few days ago. I wasn’t particularly close with him, but from the few meetings I did have with him, I knew this guy was cool as fuck. He was one of those guys who all the cool kids knew and adored. Naturally he was into drum and bass, which is how we first bonded, but he also had a very inquisitive outlook on things, particularly on the science of space and alternate dimensions and all that jazz. From what little I’ve gathered on his Facebook he seems to have killed himself, which makes perfect sense and at the same time no sense at all. This guy was revered and respected a hell of a lot, but whenever we talked there was an air of poignancy which emanated from him, something I could tell, because obviously, that’s me all over. Maybe his intellect was his downfall. It got me thinking if it was just blind chance that I’m still here and he isn’t seeing as our wavelengths were eerily similar. I had no idea what went on in his life, he had no idea what goes on in mine, but in some weird way nothing needed to be said because we knew the background purely from our philosophical talks about life.
But the thing that pissed me off over his death was not the fact he took his own life, hey, that was his choice, but it pissed me off as to how people reacted to it. Fair enough people missed and were depressed over his death, but did they have to resort to writing wall posts saying how much he meant to them? I’m sorry but I’m pretty sure he’s not going to log onto his Facebook again, liking your comments saying, “Hey! Thanks guys! I didn’t know you cared so much.” And speaking of likes, I feel like his wall is some kind of fucking “like off” where the soppiest bastard who can get the most tears flowing wins. If I was judging what I was saying from an objective perspective, maybe I’d state that I was being a cunt. But the way I see it, if people supposedly loved him so, then go to his fucking house and grieve with the family. Go to his funeral. Just spare a thought for the guy, ACTUALLY REMINISCE about him with mutual friends. Hell, if you’re still gonna be on the social media vibe, change your profile picture of you and him together without captioning the damn photo. The way I see it, a wall post that he can’t even read is fucking lazy and is the easy route to offer “condolences”.
Speaking of which, when I die, I will fucking hate you if you post something on my Facebook wall. If you wanna grieve, then grieve. But you’re only getting five minutes to grieve. Do what you want in that five minutes provided you don’t physically harm yourself or others. Cry, break stuff, whatever. But after that five minutes, you stop. And you go be productive with your life. Feel free to have me in your thoughts for the rest of your life, but in no way are you allowed to use my thoughts to do something negative. You had that chance in your five minutes. I’m sure that the term “They wouldn’t want you to cry” in reference to a deceased loved one has been rinsed loads. But it’s true. So I’m telling you this now in my future death and you’re still around: Man the fuck up and find happiness.
“You’re so naive, you don’t know anything about family politics.”
Said to me by a close family relative that isn’t my mother.
But thank you for that obvious statement my friend, but I don’t think you understand. I’m willingly choosing to be naive. I don’t wish to know how family politics work. I don’t wish to play the blame game. I couldn’t give a shit. Mainly because I’m not that particularly close with a lot of my relatives on the deep scale anyway. For the laughing and joking then yes, I get along with a lot of people. But for when times are tough, I’d say three people in my family, max. Everyone knows I’m different. I’m supposedly some westernised individual who’s too far gone and doesn’t know his roots. Firstly, I do know my roots. Secondly, I choose not to follow certain things. For instance, arranged marriages to a random girl. No need to go into that because you already got that in your head. This whole fake thing of seeing distant relatives and them saying, “Oh yeahhh! Come to my house sometime, we’ll have fun!”
Er… This is the first time I’ve seen you in three years. I’m not 12 anymore. I’m not gonna bullshit you and say I will come. Even if I did we would have fuck all to talk about and let’s face it, you really don’t want me to come down in the first place.
Family shit aside, I know I’m naive. I’m still 23. Sure, I might believe I have the mindset of a more mature being once you get past all the shameless perversion and dark humour, but I’m well aware that I still have a fucking lot of shit to learn. I don’t know how a mortgage works. I don’t know what marriage or fatherhood feels like. All that shit. But rationality and acting appropriately in serious situations? I got that on lock. But even then. I know I’m still naive.
Me and The Man upstairs have a complicated relationship. I definitely believe in him. But in terms of my religion, I’m incredibly flawed, particularly at following the physical rules. Spiritually, I guess I’m there, but in terms of unconditional love and abstaining from quite a few things, it’s definitely not there. I am angered by what He has planned out for the world. I am angered by all this suffering and stuff, but I understand that there is some greater plan. But that doesn’t mean I can’t get pissed off by that. I get all annoyed when I do something good and then think, “Ah yeaaaah, I did something good”, then get overwhelmed by paranoia that I’m actually sinning because I did something good for personal gain and fulfillment. I guess He took the role of my dad, seeing as my one died when I was young and all. I have no idea whether I’m going to heaven or hell. I find it annoying that He already knows, which makes me think my life is fucking pointless sometimes. It pisses me off that regardless of the days I praise or get angered by Him, it means nothing because I am powerless in comparison. I can’t do shit. Many scriptures in religion pretty much state that you should fear God and man, I definitely do. Trust me. Every thing that’s stated as sin is coming to bite me on the ass hard, but the annoying this is that I’ll keep doing what I wish to. Morally, I’m always going to actively try be righteous. I’ll always keep God in my thoughts. I know I should pray, but I rarely do. Lacking this unconditional love is something that bugs me. It’s a combination of guilt and worry that not having that is condemning me to Hell. But this notion of good and bad pisses me off too, because it feels like some kind of game, made even more annoying by the fact that with all my self confidence in rationality and understanding, I have no fucking idea what His plans are. That pisses me off. I’m more pissed off by the fact that even after this outburst, I’m not gonna change anything. I know I should, but I’m realistically not gonna be fucked and I will most likely regret it.
I didn’t expect to reflect on these things. I would’ve preferred to come to a conclusion about these things through profound and proactive measures, not by doing fuck all the past few days.