The Life

I’ve reached stasis. I am no longer excited about meeting the next day or pleased with what is now. There was a sparkle, a flare, a peek of sunshine. There was and it was all I needed to defibrillate my heart and electrify my soul and now, all I have is waiting—for the day to end, for the week to pass, for the next paycheck, for someone, something, anything to do that will feed my quarter-life crisis.

I’ve always thought I was one of those people who would make it. But being here now, I find that no one ever really does. And I think that’s okay, if only for the fact that we are not alone in being suck-ups and frantic chasers of The Life.

Yeah, The Life. I’ve heard every millennial say that as if it were real. It’s like violence: researchers and historians agree that, contrary to social belief that violence in the 21st century has risen to exponential proportions, violence has actually decreased from the barbaric human slaughtering and excessive, massive genocides in the past; violence is just more reported now, it attracts more airtime, what with dinnertime newscasts and Twitter. People chase after The Life like it was the existential purpose of man, like it was the sole reason we unconsciously waited nine months in some woman’s womb, like it was the objective of the creation or the big bang all along. We just hear and see and read about The Life more often these days because the countable few who actually have the luxury and time to live The Life talk about it so much. All this pain and suffering was for The Life? You can’t be serious. I honestly do not want to accept that I went through high school and college and those moments I wish I could bury my upper body into the ground never to be heard from again, just so I can have The Life and post pictures on Facebook about how it went. That would be ridiculous, if almost sad.

Here’s what I think of sadness: It’s a beautiful emotion. In fact, I think all human emotion are complexly wonderful. We like to be happy and that’s fine because happiness is an emotion, too. Except that people only like to be happy and find sadness as a turnoff or a repulsive feeling that shouldn’t be brought up in a conversation or anywhere else. People find sadness or depression or grief as the absolute end of life. I think they’re just minimally explored because so few people like to go there and fully embrace the experience. We welcome happiness and hug it and canoodle with it and fuck with it if we have the time. We are experts at happiness. And then we forget that people are more complicated than just one, single emotion. Maybe it’s why we look at people flat and see no signs of life even if they are walking down the street with their eyes wide open. We look for people who are happy and are capable of sustaining that happiness on a minute basis. We search for those people, make them our friends, marry them if we can. Honestly, I think it’s very sad. Almost depressing. I swear I am crying right now thinking about how pathetic that actually sounds, even if it’s just in my head.

Maybe it’s why we are all so fragile and we easily fall apart the moment we lose our grasp on happiness. Trust me, if it’s the only thing that’s keeping you alive, then I don’t think you even are. Embrace sadness and depression and anger and fury and excitement and frustration and maybe even indifference. Sure, be happy as often as you like, but when you are sad, be sad; when you’re angry, be angry. Don’t deny yourself your humanity just because you saw some really nice photos of people living The Life. I promise, it’s just the VSCO filter.