I haven't posted anything on here in a while, but there hasn't really been much to talk about.
A few hours ago, I was talking to mum about bills, with her saying that she was gonna have to really stretch her next few paychecks to get by. We're not poor by any stretch of the imagination—it's not an desperate situation—but she doesn't wanna resort to using our emergency money or drawing on the mortgage if she can avoid it. In her drunken state (work's been depressing her, and given what's happened, I really can't blame her for drowning her sorrows), she started to think I was worried, and assured me that I had nothing to fear, given that I will inherit everything and will not have to worry anywhere near as much about finances as she has. At the time, I was more worried about the state she was in and the situation she was talking about; but after the conversation finished, my feelings had changed significantly.
I became depressed that I was gonna avoid all that trouble.
Seriously, I was sad that things would be easy for me when it came to money, at least after my mother's death. It wasn't the death aspect; it had nothing to do with the prospect of losing my mother (although that will certainly kick me in the balls when it happens). I felt bad about how unfair it seemed. There are people all around the world of far greater moral fibre than me who suffer more greatly than I do, and a lot of those people will have to fight to pay rent, pay for food, pay for utilities, pay for healthcare, pay for their kids, pay their mortgage—they will have to stretch every paycheck they get for a long, long time, perhaps for the entirety of their working lives. I, on the other hand, will get a house and some security money when my mum stops breathing. I am assured it; it is legally bidden to me. No rent, no mortgage, no need for new furniture... no worries.
It felt like I'll be cheating at life, more-so than I already am by living in a first world country in a middle-class home. I don't pay board, I don't pay bills, I'm asked to do very little around the house; I only pay for things like snacks and video games, with the occasional miscellaneous expense. I earned $3000 over a month working for the government, and I still have over a third of it left 18 months later. I only take $20 here and $30 there; it's a financial IV drip. I know I'm privileged, and I'd be a fool to say I don't like it or take advantage. But, in terms of my long-term future, I looked at it less like a loss of potential grief and more like a loss of potential experience, as if I'm obligated to know what it feels like to be anxious about whether you can pay the next chunk of the mortgage, or whether you can pay the electricity bill before they start sending you threatening letters and disturbing you with angry phone calls.
It's not like I'll never ever have to worry about that stuff. I'll probably move out before mum dies, which means I will have to find my own place, pay my own bills, buy my own food, my own furniture, my own car, etc. She'd have to stop breathing pretty soon for me to miss out on that all-together. But, once this house frees up again, why the fuck would I keep paying rent? Fuck that shit; I'd own a goddamned house. That I can live in. That's hundreds of thousands of dollars I will never need to find, save, or spend. My experience of a stressful financial life looks like it'll be short lived. I'm lucky, I guess.
I mean, it's not all good. Once she's gone, that will fuck with me on levels I can't even begin to comprehend. No father to talk to (I want nothing to do with that faggot), no grandparents to fall back on, no siblings to grieve with... very isolating. I'm rather used to isolation, being an only child in a single-mother family, but my mum is literally my only safety net. And she's a big net at that—she's told me repeatedly she'll always look out for me and be there if I need her, no matter what. Once that net's gone, if I fall, I have to organise my own sound landing. But in terms of financial stability alone, I stand to gain a great deal which will save pain in other areas.
As per usual, I began depressed over one thing, then became depressed about lots of things. Thoughts moved from money to my social life. I've been thinking about the impression I make on people when I'm around them: how I look, how I talk, that kind of thing. I can't help but come to the conclusion that I'm just plain boring. I don't have a wild personality; I'm not outgoing; I don't have many friends; I don't do much in my spare time other than browse the net, play games, write jokes, and edit videos for YouTube. I couldn't blame anyone for thinking I was the dullest motherfucker they'd laid eyes on.
There's just a whole lot of shit other people care about that I simply don't. Like, I don't give a fuck about what I look like. I just don't care. I don't fuss over my clothes—I have plenty. There's stuff for any occasion, so I don't need to buy more. I have enough shirts, enough pants, enough jeans, enough shoes. I have enough. I'm fine. I don't need more. I don't want more. My clothes perform their practical functions every time, without fail.
But do my clothes reflect my personality? No, not really. I don't have gamer shirts, I don't have comedy shirts, I don't have shirts with nerdy quips on them. Most of my clothes are either just generic stuff or surf-brand stuff (all mum's doing, not mine, lol). My question here would be 'is this really a problem?' Do I need to buy shirts just to tell people who I am? Is this worth it? Do I need to do this like everyone else? I started thinking about this when I went to the movies with a friend of mine. She had a Doctor Who shirt on, and a passer-by noticed, leading the two strangers to have a short conversation. So it's not like I'm not seeing the benefits—it makes sense—I just don't know if I wanna go through with that. I don't know whether it fits better for me to stick with my apathy, or to care more and look into consuming more apparel than I previously have, now being able to choose whatever I want.
Sometimes I do care what I look like; I certainly do on-stage. I always wear the same thing when doing stand-up: a plain long-sleeved black shirt with long black pants or black jeans. Blacks contrast with my skin tone and bring focus to my face. And my jokes can get dark, so I like to dress dark. It's also slimming, which is very important for a skinny guy like me :)
Alcohol is another one of those things I don't care for. You wanna get wasted? You go right ahead and do that. I'll even support your right to get wasted. But I don't want to get wasted myself. I don't even want to risk getting wasted. Even getting tipsy is going to far for me. I hate being less aware of situations than I otherwise could be. And this is one of those things where the only reason I want to try it is because almost everyone else my age does it. When the desire to conform is the only driving force behind my interest in something, warning sirens go off everywhere, demanding that I do not submit under any circumstances.
Half of it's the conformity, and half of it's the fear behind the loss of awareness. Alcohol would zip through me; I wouldn't be able to handle much of it. And I keep asking myself why I'd ever do something I'm scared of, just cos every other cunt is doing it. The answer to that has repeatedly been "Well, don't! Fuck them." I can't help but see it as nothing more than an escape from reality. It's not like I don't have my own—if I get depressed or anxious and wanna get away from it all, I usually go to sleep for a while. But why do I need to drink if I can escape in my own way, without losing control, without the risk of making an ass of myself or hurting other people?
Its only benefit seems to be fitting in, making you more sociable. But while making you more sociable, it turns you into an asshole for the people who aren't drinking. For me, conversations with drunk people are the worst fucking thing I can imagine at a social event. They're illogical, they're stupid, they're obnoxious, every single goddamned time. I grow tired of it rather quickly. Obviously, one possible solution is to be drunk with them so I won't give a shit anymore, but I don't see how it's worth all the other drawbacks. Alongside such limited positives, I see the potential to verbally abuse people for no reason, make people uncomfortable only because I'm unable to function properly, vomiting because I'm a selfish prick with no self control, or passing out and having other people take care of my sorry ass because I'm incapable of doing so. It just seems so fucking childish. But, on the other hand, all the judgement I can pass off sometimes, and my fear of alcohol itself, is just as immature. Can't win :P
If I ever got the balls to try it, and if I could bear the taste (I won't drink things I don't like the taste of), I suppose I could enjoy light drinks with people on social occasions, but I don't see myself taking shots and downing entire bottles of vodka, or whatever the fuck else people drink in the name of excess.
Speaking of maturity, travelling is another thing that was on my mind. I've heard about so many people venturing overseas, studying overseas, even living overseas for extend periods of time. And every time I see it, I can't help but feel like I'm way behind for not even being interested, let alone having the skills and the balls to actually do it. I can't imagine being that far away from everyone I know for even a few days, let alone the weeks and months these people spend overseas. I sit here, reading these Facebook statuses from Venice and Paris and Japan thinking "HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU NOT DEAD YET? TELL ME YOUR SECRETS >.<"
It's not just the food either—to be honest, so long as I was in a city or a town with a Western supermarket, I'd probably be able to get all the unhealthy noms I live on over here. It's not infeasible for me to stock up on chips, yoghurt, cereal, breadsticks, etc., and travel around, so long as I've got enough to last me till I reach another supermarket. Perhaps the excitement of being in a new place (which I've heard so much about :P) will drive me to try new food. It's all the other things that worry me: being alone, having to keep alert on unfamiliar streets, finding my way around, having to plan finances, visas, passports, accommodation, etc., the fucking airplane rides. It's that shit that scares me.
Would I like to travel? I dunno. Maybe one day. I'd like to perform stand-up in the US and the UK, maybe in a few other English-speaking countries too, but I'm not preparing to do that at the moment. I'm not keen on going somewhere just to look at things and take pictures—I can see the wonders of the world on the internet for free. If I'm gonna go somewhere, I wanna do shit, man.
Overall, the way I look at my personality and my attractiveness is through the lens of scepticism. My atheism is as such: I see no evidence for the existence of any gods, so I lack belief in gods. I don't necessarily affirm that there are no gods; I just don't have any belief in gods. It is up to the people claiming there is a god, or that there are gods, to provide me with evidence before I change my mind. Likewise, with my attractiveness, I see no evidence suggesting that anyone thinks I'm attractive, so I have no reason to believe there are people who find me attractive. Does that mean I think I'm unattractive? No. I could be attractive to someone, somewhere, perhaps someone who hasn't met me yet who will find me attractive upon my introduction. But that doesn't mean I think I'm attractive. It all depends on who you ask, really.
Unfortunately, without confidence in yourself, people tend to find you unattractive anyway. This indicates a need for me to have confidence in the attractiveness I have no evidence for, just so I can get the evidence I need to have confidence in its existence. Fuck :P
I guess I feel as though I'm being young incorrectly. I know there's no actual 'correct' way—no 'correct' age to start drinking, if at all; no 'correct' clothes to wear; no 'correct' desires to hold—but sometimes, it's like I'm trying to force myself into a puzzle as a piece that just doesn't fit. Mum often represents it differently unto me, making out as though I'm tough for managing to be so different for so long, but I can't help but think fear of things other than conformity are just as responsible for my failure to fit the standard. I don't know where people my age get all this gusto from. Do I have it in a different fashion, or just not at all?
I'm a nihilist; I believe there is no inherent meaning to life, and that you have to create your own. Perhaps most people my age asked the same question, and all arrived at the same answer.
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