There never seems to be a kind of peacetime. A time when you can relax and plan for the future. A time things feel stable or it's possible to get your hopes up. It's one battle to the next. It doesn't matter if you're tired, who was hurt along the way, or how much was sacrificed. Just keep fighting. You have to be lucky enough to draw motivation or pride in doing so, or all you can do is get tired.
It's the kind of tired that old gangsters talk about after too many of their friends have been shot for bumping up against the wrong person. It's the tired that causes a person in finance to kill themselves when something goes wrong or they're up for potential prosecution. (like that ever happens) It's the tired that takes a beaten brow and sore feet and makes them testify to the amount of sleep you need the moment your ass hits the couch. You're thrust into this fight. You're expected to pick up your weapon of choice and cut through those that would deny you or beat back those that would consume you.
And you need to take pride in it. You need to give yourself reasons. You need to defend your ideas about your ability, your purpose, your drive, your family, or your very destiny. Whether that destiny lies in a humble solitude enjoying the music of the birds as you devour literature or rockets you to the frenzied heights of Wall Street killing lest ye be killed every minute, there's a tone, a voice that has to quietly but persistently reassure you that this is okay, this is righteous, this is you.
I think we sacrifice that voice. To me, it feels so LOUD how trapped I am. It feels like no matter which friend I inquire about, no institution I'd like to trust, nor any new information I may stumble across allows for a reason to think in anything but desperate terms. And I feel exhausted. I feel defeated. It's like being beaten of everything besides "professional uncertainty." There's always hope in what you don't know!
I know how people do it. I know they ignore, deny, and pretend. I know they do it because they need to fit. They need to function. The world has to have some semblance of order or predictability. It just has to! Nobody means to sound like an insensitive sociopath. They don't mean to carry on like nothing else matters. But what choice do they have!? There's not enough time! The market has decided I'm to have an inadequate job and insufficient resources to recognize the world beyond my circumstances. It's a trap! And I couldn't have known, and I can't get out. Stop blaming me!
And they're right. And it's simple. And it's sad. Your mess is greed's fault. Your disintegrating future was trounced by pride. You were handed poisoned Legos and told to build to your heart's content and never mind all the coughing. And what a pretty castle! It's got gadgets, entertainment, and the finest garments. It's cost effective. It suits someone of your tastes and caliber.
Not all crashes come with a boom and a mess. They can start with a crack. They can fall in a forest where ears are unavailable. The invisible hand slaps more faces than you'll meet in a lifetime. But it will just be another blow against another soul in their own every day war. It's not your job to bother. It's not your place to question.
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