If I had to say anything, I’d say: Sometimes I feel despair.
Despair, to me, is around the edges of everything I do. I have a fundamental belief that failure is more likely than success, that you have to keep succeeding, but you only have to fail once.
But you can’t live your life that way, not if you want to do anything, be anything. So I need to shove those things down, to compress them until I can ignore them and continue on my way.
That’s what it’s always been like: I say “you can never do this.” And then I nod, say “I know” back, and keep on doing it anyway.
I consider myself a Heroic Pessimist, which is to say, just a pessimist who doesn’t lie down and die. There are certain things I’d like to do with this life, and I don’t care that they’re meaningless. If its likely I’ll never achieve much of anything, that likelihood gets me closer than the absolute certainty that comes with not even trying.
You might as well, you know – rage against the dying of the something, something.
What I mean is that its really easy not to give a shit, and you’d probably be right to do so. But that gets me nowhere. I’d rather die on my feet.
So that’s what this is all about: I want to talk to people who are doing it. I want to talk to people that get up every day and pursue something of deeper meaning than simply acquiring enough funds to survive another week.
I want to surround myself with people that remind me that its easy to not give a shit, but that doesn’t make it right. People who are committed to eternal frustration, eternal effort, eternal suffering.
The Eternal Suffering Society.