Just Smile and Take the Pills

I will not think bad thoughts.  It's a line from an X song.  Don't know if it's a cover.  Don't really like X (gasp!) all that much.  I like the line, though. 

I will not think bad thoughts.

I think I'm pretty clear with my feelings.  When I don't want to be bothered, I don't want to be bothered.  When I don't want to talk, I don't want to talk.  When I wish someone harm, I wish someone harm.  That honesty can sometimes be damaging.  It's not "healthy," or so I've been told.

I think it's a lot more healthy than suppressing those feelings and pretending like you are somehow above them.  Like they are something you don't have, but "other people" do.

I will not think bad thoughts.  I will not think bad thoughts.

There's a scene in Stanley Kubrick's flawed, yet beautiful version of The Shining.  Jack has reached his breaking point, and his wife finds manuscript page after manuscript page formatted in various ways with the same line.  "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy."

Suppression doesn't work well for some people.

I think of myself as a fairly happy person in some unhappy situations.  I make the most of them.  I'm not hanging people in my garage and taking the drill to them.  I'm not robbing liquor stores or poisoning town water supplies.  I'm not exposing myself in public parks, and I don't have a shoplifting habit that's threatening to get me jail time.  I don't go through life wearing a false smile (or often even a real one since people tend to get freaked out when I smile and I don't feeling like answering questions).  I have even stopped pointing out much of the bullshit on the part of hypocrites when I encounter it because it's just not worth it.

Instead, I keep my mouth shut a lot and nod.  I bite my tongue, not to spare anyone's feelings, but to keep from having to explain things.  It's easier that way sometimes.  A cop out?  Yes, but in the long run it saves me e-mails and awkward moments.

I will not think bad thoughts.

I tried to be more social for a while.  It didn't work.  It doesn't work.  Not for everyone.  Not for me.  I don't like the bar scene.  Parties are not something I can relate to.  Quite honestly, people are herd animals, and herd animals often act in stupid ways.  That worries me.

One on one time is often fine.  I can do that and not be too uncomfortable in my skin.  Sometimes people try to pull me into their dramas.  After first I usually laughed at the stupidity of it all, but when I saw the reactions I got to that, I quickly stopped and just kind of tuned out a lot of it.  That is also easier in dealing with someone one on one.  I don't like being pulled into other people's dramas caused by their own stupidity.  I do like hearing about their thoughts and feelings, but don't expect me to sympathize with stupid.  It's not going to happen.

I will not think bad thoughts.

I've limited my choices.  I don't mind.  It beats the alternative.  Every once in a great while I'll have some pang of remorse that I didn't pursue something further, but then I realize that in the end, all roads lead to misery and death.  That's the final outcome for any situation involving a human.  You will, at some point, find yourself with diminished capacity, bleeding out, losing focus.  You won't remember who is around you.  Their faces will go into soft focus.  Names wont' matter.  Those memories won't matter.  You may not even be strong enough for your survival instincts to kick in.  Or ...

It will come fast.  You may be with the love of your life.  She may be laughing as you drive down the street, singing to some dumb Duran Duran song.  Life, at that point, is good.  In a split second, though, it all changes.  That momentary happiness is replaced with broken glass, screeching tires on asphalt and that awful crunching sound that comes with metal being twisted out of shape.  You may hear a scream.  You may realize it is her.  You will realize it is suddenly cut off.  You won't know why because you can't turn your neck.  You can look down, though.  You need to because you think you wet yourself.  You move your eyes down.  It's not easy.  It's also not urine.  It's blood.  Her's.  And there she is.  Across your lap.  Part of her anyway.  You wonder where the head went (the EMTs will later pull it from the back seat, eyes still open).  It's a lot of blood.  You black out.

I don't want to pretend there are no meaningful moments in life.  There are, or those random acts would have no meaning, either.  I just don't want to pretend the awful side of things doesn't exist.  I want to acknowledge and move on and not waste my time trying to pretend otherwise.

It gets me through the day, and it keeps me from thinking bad thoughts ... sometimes.