What the Fucking Fuck! A Love Story
I am currently in
a state of profound unhappiness. I imagine it’s like losing someone
you’ve mapped the rest of your life with; never entertaining the
idea they could be gone in an instant. It’s losing something
foundational and part of your core. I don’t even know if I
have a simple name for what I think I’ve lost, but the more I focus
on it, the more I want to lose control.
Maybe it’s my idea that if there is a
problem, it can be fixed, if not relatively easily. Once you break it
down into parts you can see every kink and immediately know what
needs to happen to change course. Right now, it feels like some
problems are so established or entrenched, the memory of how to fix
them has been lost. The collective will-power or effort necessary is
a shaky suggestion silently predicated with “if only” and “given
a miracle.”
It’s one thing to try and fail. It’s
soul crushing to try and know there are people, who without
hesitation, will doom you to fail before you begin. When I think my
cynicism can know no bounds, I find another layer of humanity to
stomach. It’s one thing to read about it or watch Youtube clips
exposing the corrupt and evil. Let it into your life, your bank
account, your relationship with your family and friends. Try to
explain anything without sounding like you’re making an excuse.
Be “the most motivated” the “bravest” the one to take a
“chance” and come face to face with the people who aren’t
simply uncompelled or unimpressed, but make it their business to take
advantage of you.
I develop or adopt the philosophy. I
make the calls and meetings. I crunch the numbers. I pick the wording
and keep the smile. I fit the puzzle together. I’m the boss whether
I want to be or not. I get the stress and the drama and the stupid
details you don’t care to hear about. I’ve worked 23 hours a day.
I set myself to OWN what I use. I try to learn as much as I can in
the time that I have and press forward because that’s the only
direction you can go. I’m not the cabinet maker, architect,
maintenance supervisor, plumber, electrician, or lawyer yet am
expected to be as an entrepreneur. And if I’m not, I’m seemingly
expected to catch the fallout from not adorning those capacities.
I can’t say I know it isn’t
hopeless when I’m up against forces like these. I don’t mean in
that I can’t succeed somewhere at some time. I mean with things.
Like, life and morals and any remote sense of the word justice. I
haven’t experienced genocide first hand or I’m sure I could’ve
come to this sooner, but…to genuinely fear the loss of your
resolve. To entertain the idea that your life is meant to be a
cautionary tale about thinking and doing right and still having to
content yourself with just what you have. To think that
problems aren’t there to be fixed, they’re for keeping you in
line.
It’s at this point someone tells me
they know what I’m capable of. That one way or another I’ll bounce
back or understand the consequences of doing one thing over another.
And they’re right. We can both safely point to obvious character
traits I seem to take reverence in. I’m also the person who is all
of those things and still finding the capacity for hopelessness. What
short term gratification it would be to just destroy. A surprise
ending with a wave of conflicting feelings about legacy.
And it’s not like people can help,
right? Even if they wanted to they’ve got class or their own bills
or own sense of moral outrage and obligation. That was your charge
Nick P. You explore that world and check back in with me when you
start throwing parties again. Not that you can blame them.
I say I want my life to play out like a
movie, and maybe I’m just getting everything I asked for. I really
should have been more specific about the genre.
