Friday, June 08, 2018

US Suicide Rates Rise

Seems crazy, but not that crazy. Welcome to the meat-grinder. The culture creates a standard of success and then hamstrings the ability to achieve it. Wealth has become morality, and the measure of individual importance.

Works us until we have no more to give, or until it has no use for us. A person reaches the endgame, and realizes it's only the endgame for them, and that the game wasn't even a game. They've been pushing a millstone attached to nothing, and they only made money for the person who sold it to them.

I'm not sure knowing this early on will insulate me from the despair. Suicide isn't something I think I can understand by itself; it seems to be tied to a lot of not-feeling of certain emotions. I understand despair, and I understand self-loathing. I suppose if I lost my sense of self, the idea that I exist, then ending a non-existent state might seem a rational thing to do.

It must seem rational, I think. Knowing that I am often irrational is a bleak comfort. Two layers of defense against a culture that is eating itself alive.

Tuesday, June 05, 2018

Took my car to the shop in anticipation of my upcoming commute. The brakes were fine; still going strong after 120,000 miles. My serpentine belt had been slipping all over the place, squealing in protest every time I started the car. It always settled after a minute, so I kept putting off replacing it. 

The serpentine belt is pretty important, I learned. The whole car just runs better now. 

Next up I have to replace my cracked windshield. I've put that repair off out of mostly bitterness; I had just replaced it and then it cracked again two weeks later. Next paycheck.

Or was it new glasses next paycheck? AC might be due for a recharge....

If only I didn't ever have to drive anywhere or be able to see things; I'd have a lot more money.

Monday, June 04, 2018

What doesn't make sense. Most things. What does make sense is not being so attached to material possessions. Loving them is okay; loving anything is okay. My concern is the when the idea of the self extends to the objects. Ownership requires some kind of investment, and objects persist in a way that may outlast the original motivation.

I'm thinking of how depression is often marked by rumination; constant reliving of sorrow. Isn't it possible to ruminate on joyful things? Aren't there times when it's appropriate to feel unease? Unbiased reflection may not be possible, and it make sense to me to seize every opportunity to evaluate the self, one's circumstances, and desires. Still biased by the particular emotional state, but given a large sample size it becomes easier to identify outliers. Like if I'm angry and suddenly some action seems like a good idea, I can maybe think to find out why it seems like that in this state, but not in other states.

Molding the mind like a stubborn clay. For fun and profit?