Entry 1-2-2023
The second day of the year. The world is grim. The sky is gray. A cloud has descended not only on this land but on GC’s mind.
Today for the first time in a few months GC was angry. At who or what is immaterial for this writing.
Who else knows? GC thinks no one. No one knows or possibly could ever know the depth of the mind, the internal dialogue, the hopes and wishes and hurts of GC. He is alone in the depths.
Today for the first time ever GC searched the web “how to kill oneself easily”. Today for the first time an ad on the side of a bus warning about the dangers of a certain drug, how just one pill can kill, seemed somewhat appealing. To take the life of another would be unimaginable; to take his own was sweet release.
There’s not much to get rid of anyways. Pursuit of knowledge, art, and design have left the body shrunk and the mind in constant speculation of the horrors enveloping GC’s reality.
Today, not for the first time, the thought occurred that freedom lies on the other side of that dark gateway. Freedom from the hellish path on which GC trods, head down and heart heavy.
I don’t think he actually would do it. To many others GC has preached of the yet unexplored wonders of this world and the music which elicits emotion and the friendly faces to see: great reasons to remain in this reality.
Even though, in truth, to GC the vast majority of these remain unexplored, unheard, and unseen. Time, commitments, work, money, people: barriers everywhere are realized and backed away from.
For GC knows too well the personal butterfly effect: that perhaps it is too late in this life to begin anew, to change course, to right the ship. Maybe the best way forward is to drop a wad of dynamite into the boiler and cling to hope that the next pilot makes different choices earlier in the voyage.
How did it come to this? Perhaps he never found love, much less love in the time of COVID. Perhaps the sirens and allures of the world drew too well his attention and helped pull the ship away from a course which would serve prosperity, happiness, and stability. Perhaps the world is cruel and the proper reaction is cruelty again.
I should certainly hope not, and the truth of the matter is that the current situation seems to be a product of this naïveté.
Is he truly alone? Certainly in the current community it is so.
Is he alone in feeling this way? Certainly this is doubtful, as GC perceives this as a plight of many others young and old alike.
Is he wrong or misled to find and be angry such a cruel reality? The only cruel reality is the one he has crafted for himself.
Perhaps this is a carefully crafted reality, one in which the walls to happiness are closing in all around members of the human race. Capitalism and AI would be the obvious scapegoats. Perhaps GC is the only real one, or one of a few sentients in a vast sea of projections.
The world is changing. And so must I. The horrors remain.
Love, Family, and Incrementals.
