essay in 15 minutes

the lie of the day: i have my physics final at 10 a.m. today and will be back home around 12:30. that’s 4 hours from 8:30 to 12:30 for myself.

now, i’m sitting in the backseat of my car parked at some random spot in my town, writing an essay in 15 minutes. actually, i only have 10 minutes left because it took me 5 minutes just to explain where i am. (i wasn’t sure how much context i wanted to share at the start). since when was it so hard to explain myself?

there obviously wasn’t a specific critical threshold, but the answer is: when my circumstances and my selfhood became too complex. i wouldn’t say that my experience of existence has gotten any worse since like, middle school, but it’s definitely gotten a lot more complicated. 

maybe because every present moment includes the nested effects of the past. and there’s an immense amount of past now. also, i’ve just adopted a bunch of weird character traits and bad habits and a job and university and etcetera, like things just kind of get complicated around this period. i guess that’s just life, haha.

i’m pretty tired, as per usual. and feeling disappointed, conflicted, and all-around like zombie shit. i would explain why but there are too many variables at play for me to articulate a good response. and to explain the reason why those factors are the way they are would be another tier of complexity. i have no doubt that i have the ability to do so, but the time and energy it would cost for me to tell you what the hell happened here just isn’t worth it.

i’d rather just go on with life, minute by minute, moment by moment, a little blind and a little deaf, only thinking of my problems in small parts. or not at all. except no, because then i find myself repeating mistakes and stepping boldly into the same traps. i think 60% of my life is dumb repetition, the result of some sort of forgetfulness or stupidity… like a bug smashing against a windowpane.

and the reason i’m living in my car for today: my parents make me anxious. i struggle to do anything when they’re in the house.

this is etched into the writhing monument which is my brain. so i lie about where i am, how i’m doing, what i’m doing, who i’m with, etc. whenever i want to get away. 

i feel pretty guilty sometimes hiding parts of myself from them. and for being generally cold to them. it’s a feeling that i can forget about pretty quickly, but sometimes i catch my mom getting drunk by herself at night and i think maybe it’s because she invested her life in a family that doesn’t love her back. she has a monotonous, difficult life that isn’t too worthwhile. and i’m not exactly helping.

this problem is pretty solvable and i’ve been working on it. trying to approach my mom when i can and talk to her. but my dad scares the shit out of me and they’re often together. i have much less (but still a good amount) of sympathy for him.

it really bugs me because they do actually love me. my dad is just extremely conceited and my mom is, well… married to him.

and what’s scarier: having abusive people who don’t really care about you, or having abusive people who do it because they love you? 

welp, that’s just parenting. and this is just life. i've accepted how and why my parents exist. just like everything else.

isn’t that the punchline? things just are. there is a quality of is-ness which everything acquires when you reach the plateau in explaining them. and once you grasp the complexity, the arbitrary absurdity, the ‘ah it just is’, you don’t want to approach it anymore.

alright i think i ought to take a nap or something.

note:

bulk of essay was written in 15, but many wording edits were made over the next 30 tho lol. 

foreword: 

in hindsight this is, as the kids would say, a whole lot of copium.

my life isn't really THAT complicated

things aren't even really that bad

... but i have been feeling overwhelmed 

and exhausted