More angst? No wai!
Posted by Lauren | Under Personal Neuroticisms with 668 views Monday May 28, 2007I can still remember the day when everything stopped being simple and started being complicated. It was the day, or a few days after, I broke up with the ex. Before that day, my life was in order. Everything was in black and white. People were either smart or dumb. Women were either sluts or virgins. Men were either assholes or gentlemen.
I’m starting to realize that the world isn’t as simple as that, that there are a lot of gray areas in everything and people are more complex and can’t be boxed into categories A, B, or C.
God knows I did everything I could to make today a good day, or at least an okay day. But I saw the traffic this morning and no matter how many cheerful songs I played on my iPod, I knew I was going to go through a depressive spell sometime today. I was running a little late this morning, but not late enough to actually be late and get fined an hour’s worth of my salary. The fifteen-minute difference meant far more cars on the road than I’m used to and I started getting depressed over the traffic. The traffic, for fuck’s sake. It’s such a stupid yuppie bourgeois thing to get all stressed over, but I never used to think this way about traffic. I was thinking about how all these people on the road probably work in Makati and left early so that they could avoid the headache of rush hour and actually get to the office on time. Except two million other people have the same brilliant idea so the traffic is still the same no matter what time it is. And that thought really got me down, for some reason. Life’s shitty enough without people being assholes on the road and everyone trying to get to work at the same time.
It used to be that going to work was something I looked forward to because the friends I’m making there are wonderful people and the workload isn’t even all that bad. Seriously, it’s a fucking comedy show everyday, and how many people can say that about their jobs? But no thanks to some stupid drama, the thought of work tomorrow makes want to throw up. I wish my cubicle were in a more inaccessible place so I can just sneak in and out of the room without being seen or seeing anyone. I dread having to wake up every morning to do the same old same old and for what? Yeah I have vague plans of taking a cross-country trip in the US maybe after a year of working, but what’s going to keep me going until then? The band? What band? We’re making songs yeah but where is this going to get us? It’s been two months since we had an actual rehearsal and though I scheduled one for tomorrow, I have this sinking feeling in my stomach that someone is going to back out and I swear to God if that happens I’ll snap, throw an embarrassing hissy fit, then quit. I’m sick of being the band nazi, I’m sick of being the one who has to get things moving. I’m sick of doing everything and getting nowhere.
The point I’m trying to make out of all this is that today was one of those days where I realized that shit, I’m not a kid anymore. I’m waking up to the real world everyday and I don’t like what I see. Everything I used to take for granted, like parking fees and foot spas, suddenly costs way too much. The money I make is never enough to buy me all the stuff I want, and I’m not even sure why I want all that stuff in the first place. Sometimes I think that maybe parents should never read children fairy tales with happy endings because it’s such a fucking shock to discover that there is such a thing as Prince Charming, but he’s so fucking charming that all the Prince Charmings in all fairy tales are one and the same guy. But then again, maybe all that happy-ending propaganda is good for something because if it weren’t, I bet kids as young as eight would start swinging from their bedroom windows. They’re not old enough to know just how shitty life gets. Maybe I’m not old enough to know how shitty life gets. Maybe this is all just a prologue.
I’m told that I think too much about stuff like this and that’s why I get depressed. But nobody’s going to teach me this shit and if I don’t think about any of this, I’ll just go through life without knowing anything. Ignorance may be bliss, sure, but I’ll just feel like I lived for nothing if I just go through the motions without examining my life as Socrates says.
Oh, I know that in a couple of years or so I’ll eventually snap out of this angst or growing pains or whatever you call it. I’ll get my head back on straight and life will be simple again. Then I’ll laugh at everything I ever wrote and I’ll be business-minded enough to condense all these angst-ridden entries into a book that I can market to depressed 21-year olds. I just wish there was some way I can fast-forward the next four or so years of my life and move on to the part where I’m mature and happy, or as close to happy as anyone can get.
This moment of angst was brought to you by Thom Yorke and the rest of Radiohead.
A heart that’s full up like a landfill,
a job that slowly kills you,
bruises that won’t heal.
You look so tired-unhappy,
bring down the government,
they don’t, they don’t speak for us.
I’ll take a quiet life,
a handshake of carbon monoxide,
with no alarms and no surprises,
no alarms and no surprises,
no alarms and no surprises,
Silent silence.
This is my final fit,
my final bellyache,
with no alarms and no surprises,
no alarms and no surprises,
no alarms and no surprises please.
Such a pretty house
and such a pretty garden.
No alarms and no surprises,
no alarms and no surprises,
no alarms and no surprises please.
Wild guess here: Existentiatlist? If so, it cements my theory that all existentialists are bound to be depressed at some point in their lives.
depression can be a real good motivator. :p i noticed, we have the same birthday. mar 25 86, i was wondering that may be the reason why i could relate. the group of depressed 21-year-olds can actually be a market. but i also realized one thing, if these things bring you down, then kill them all. get away, pack your bags and go somewhere totally not like today. ciao!
I read this, and it’s easy to relate. I don’t have much to say to make you feel better. However, I can say that the time right after college really sucks because of the giant reality slap. Look foward to the good things you have planned, and don’t worry about snapping out of it, if you feel bad there’s a reason for it. The only thing that sucks is that sometimes the reason is nothing more than life is being a bitch.
i don’t blame you. when i was your age i was making so little and had the audacity to run away from home (sick of living with my parents as an adult), i hated my job and i hated people. i felt my education and intellect was an utter waste, and there was nothing that could bankroll or sustain any creative endeavor that i was doubting myself from coming up with – my confidence in my talent eroding against the tide of economics.
existence was humiliated. why not end it all, along the mrt tracks near the guadalupe station like a male third world anna karenina, without the romance.
you get through it. the best way, the BEST way, is to find inspiration. money inspired me, as it still does. not the stockpiling of it, but how it bankrolls my dreams (for music, for writing, for family).
love as much as you do, and be as disappointed as you possibly can. half a decade later you’ll meet someone like you and have a grand time drinking to post-university life. just be here now.