Two – bread and water

About a year ago, a friend of mine had died, she drowned while trying to cross a creek, and due to excessive rains a sudden deluge had swept her up, and she drowned. I had not seen her in over 7 years, but it still bothered me a great deal, after hearing about it. I’d check the newspapers that week, hoping for some notification of a funeral service. I wrote a grievance note to her parents, and it still lies in my car trunk: couldn’t be sent without the full address, even though I had provided the street name, just not the number. It is just as well that I was denied such closure: I do not doubt I deprived her of her own closure with myself, when she’d left the Academy, in negative circumstances no less. None of that’s important to this story, though.

What is important to this story is the reactions I’d get from other people, having heard about it. These were others at the Academy I would tell, who didn’t really know her so well, or had mostly judgment for her personality. To say she was difficult was an understatement. I think most people there were uncomfortable with such a character present in that sanctuary, and eventually she, like some others before her that just didn’t fit, would wind up transferring. This exit made them revered and despised at the same time. There was not one individual who ever left, that did not become the target of rumors and gossip. We chided them, but yet, unlike us, these kids were free, and we knew it.

So then, the drowned girl gets two freedoms on us all: liberated from our high school, and now, liberated from life. I wonder if any contempt comes from a bit of jealousy. In the end, we realize it’s much better to be alive than dead, no matter how much life hurts, but, as a friend once told me, if we’re dead, then we didn’t live to care. It’s like the riddle: what do we buy but never personally use? The answer is Tylenol Gelcaps.

Was there not a time where, the dead were given a certain respect, no matter who they were? Was it not that, you didn’t speak ill about those who are no longer with us, because we have personal fears and remorse for such a fate? Not once was anybody as bothered by this news as I was, not because they didn’t really know her, but rather, the person they did know was rowdy, a troublemaker, and often inconsiderate of how others felt when she acted. Yes, she was a jerk, and somehow jerkitude is grounds for this kind of treatment.

The point of this is not to accuse others of being heartless, so I will go back on-topic. I brought this anecdote up, as evidence to a phenomenon I’ve been witnessing within some of my peers. Many carry little empathy or respect for those who suffering or dying. There’s this attitude, that matters going on around the world are of no concern to us, and as long as we keep plodding along in our lives, everything is alright. The outside has become too complex to deal with, so it’s better just to not worry about “hard” matters, and just fight to earn enough bread to buy some bullshit to bring some pleasure, and if the credit cards are under control, and our kids aren’t scum, then I guess we done alright.

As usual, my exterior accusations are just coverage for self-criticism. I’m not trying to convince anybody to drop everything, here I am just coming to terms with my disagreement with almost everybody around me. What I mean is, that there are times where I slip into a comfort with the society around me, and there are instances where I would like nothing more than to escape from what I deem meaningless and unimportant, in the grand scheme of things. Usually that second part comes with a decent amount of self-loathing, but I’ll leave that for another time.

I want to simplify my life, and yet I feel as if that would be impossible as matters are right now. I guess it’s up to me to decide if I could compromise my situation, or it’s really going to take a major major change to put myself at ease. Either way, I’m not comfortable living in a place where hearing about the death of someone is responded to with laughter. I’ve tried and tried with great effort to adapt, but I’m just not the same as anyone. There isn’t any place for me here, any more.