introspection

How To Hate Your Life And Die Miserable

Change is terrifying, add that to the List Of Things The Adults Never Taught Me.  It gets harder to accept the older you get because nobody wants to play guessing games with their life.  If at all one believes in Destiny, and possibly finds comfort in the idea, it still isn’t enough to believe what is meant to be will simply be. There’s always a possibility that one might be veering off course, and that’s what keeps most people up at night.

I’m certain of three things in Life:

1. I have a talent.

2. I’ll die alone.

3. Shit gets fucked easily.

Whether one believes in them or not, sometimes, we get signs in Life.  Signs to show us what we need to be doing, who we need to be. Guidance.

I tend to feel a lot of things are repetitive in my life.  Like I know what to do, I just lack the courage.  I fear both abandoning this Life to create a new one and staying in this Life and hating every moment. And so, with things like that, I tend to feel I go nowhere.

And time passes.

It’s easy to lose your Life to grey areas. To stagnancy. To hopes and fears. 

It’s easy to die unfulfilled, all you need to do is nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Spend your time thinking and not doing.

Watch opportunities pass because you don’t know why you should even bother trying.

Feel guilty because you didn’t take that one, and wallow, resulting in you missing the rest.

 

I know nothing of destinies, but I know the feeling you get when you walk out on what you know is right for you.  I know what it feels like to waste time because you’re scared.

I know what it feels like for the safe option to be the one that kills you inside.

And they say “better the Devil you know” but I really think that’s bullshit. At the same time, I don’t think I’m one to talk.

Like everyone else, I’m scared.

Scared I don’t deserve what I want.

Scared I won’t get it because I don’t deserve it and all the trying in the world won’t do shit.

Scared to die nameless. 

Scared to die nameless and alone. 

Scared to die nameless and alone having tried at both making a difference and love. 

Scared to die disappointed, possibly. 

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Sins of the Father

It’s an unfortunate truth that we all become our parents before we die.  I often think one is made up of both their parents not just physically, but psychologically and spiritually, and if you’re lucky and able to, you add on the little authentic pieces of yourself as you become yourself.

This is how I asses who I am.

When I was young I was my mother. Naive, caring, sweet, considerate, emotional. I was thoughtful and diplomatic.

As I’ve gotten older I’ve pushed my mother’s positive attributes aside and become my father.  Short tempered, occasionally belligerent, secretive, deceitful when need arises, and selfish.

Growing up I never understood why my father was as he was.  It wasn’t until I knew about his background that I began to somewhat understand his behaviour.  My grandfather was a polygamist who preferred his second wife over his first wife, my grandmother, and therefore neglected his children by her.  My father and his siblings would go for weeks on end without seeing him and when he was around, he’d cause a ruckus and then fuck off. My grandmother in turn became resentful and took it out on the children [not so much physically as psychologically].  My father would often run away from home or hide and wouldn’t speak to anyone for weeks on end.

He left home at 17 and went to start a life in Phikwe, close to Bobonong, then eventually joined the army and moved to Gaborone to prosper.

My mother came from a loving, close family in Moshupa. She went to school and lived a peaceful existence.

Now imagine that union.  The two of them together is a trip, to say the least.

Although both of them have gotten this far in Life, maybe what deterred me from becoming my mother was what I regard as weakness from her when it comes to dealing with hardship and things of that nature. There’s such a thing as “too nice”.  Watching how my mother was unable/unwilling to stand up for herself and was constantly crying over something someone else had done, I decided I didn’t want to be that way.

I, however, thought I was too intelligent to become my father.  I thought it wasn’t something I had to stop myself from becoming because deep down I knew it wasn’t okay. Kind of like being a murderer. You don’t constantly have to tell yourself not to kill because you don’t think about it, you just don’t kill.

I learned that the best way to deal with him was to become like him.  For lack of a better expression, it was kill or be killed.

Now my mother, who honestly tried her hardest to shield me from his flaws, has no choice but to admit that I embody them. And it’s unfortunate but I do believe it necessary to be so.

I see it in the way I interact with people, in my romantic relationships and my decision making, I can be a bully and rather irrational. And I swear it’s getting harder to change the older I get.

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Who are you living for?

I’m yet to meet a person who announces to the world that they’re going to change their life and actually does.  From drug addicts to layabouts, people pleasers to assholes, they all at some point proclaim “I’m done. From now on, there’s a new me” and I don’t know whether this New version of them malfunctions or it’s simply never created, but I’ve never encountered it.

Why people feel the need to proclaim their personal, internal changes to the world is beyond me. I guess in a society where we feel the need to share pictures of our food, the fact that we’re going to urinate and even that one is considering shaving, it was bound to come.

If eye rolling were an exercise, I’d have the fittest eyes around.  I probably do it too often  as I read these proclamations and promises to Future Selves, passive aggressive words heavy with urgency and defeat.

“From now on I no longer care what anyone else has to say. It’s about me now. I want to better myself and change into the person I’m meant to be.”

And that’s all good and well. Lovely.

But why tell the world what you won’t tell yourself?

I find more often than not, such people want affirmation and acknowledgement from others. Sometimes, simply, attention.

The “I quit drinking” every Sunday morning people.

The “I no longer want to have meaningless sex” and yet still having one night stands on the sly people.

The “From now on I’m gonna be confident” but I’m only saying that so you people acknowledge I said it people.

“You don’t get cookies for doing what you’re supposed to do.”

I don’t think people understand this.

You aren’t entitled to a standing ovation for bettering yourself as a person. Not for doing what’s best for yourself, no, you don’t.

I understand that for most people, they want some sort of reward for going through distress but honestly, even when it comes to doing something for yourself that you feel you’ll benefit from?

Why should your relationship with your Self include other people? See, this is where people get it wrong. We’re so busy being out of ourselves and in the world, whether on the internet or otherwise, that we forget that We are all we have.

That’s why we have people who can’t make a decision without someone else’s input, even if it’s a stranger.

That’s why we have those “Wanna dye my hair. Red or purple?” people.

Those “I want to sleep but I’m hungry. What do you think I should do guys?” people.

I feel these kinds of people are exactly like those who want to tell the world about their decision to do something that affects no one but themselves.

People who constantly ask for advice irk me. I feel like they make you responsible for their life and that, in my eyes, is not only disrespectful, it’s a lot of pressure that the next person doesn’t need. No one needs to be living someone else’s life on their behalf.

If you are one of these people I ask you, why?

How difficult is it to ask yourself about things that are only your business and see how you feel about it?

How difficult is it to be responsible to and for yourself?

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