I have this… pathological aversion to the legal babble that occurs at the end of commercials for cars and drugs. It provokes this violent physical response in me, like I want to scratch my skin off. This is the shitty side of being synesthetic. It’s awesome when a pretty girl takes me to a laser show and I can feel the lasers dancing on my skin, every color a different texture. It’s less awesome when someone starts wittering about zero percent APR and I can feel the words skittering on my skin like ants, more and more every second trying to crawl into my brain through my ears.
Having fallen ass-backwards into graphic design as a career, I end up having to write a lot of corporate bullshit. I find it disturbing and also funny, like many things. George Carlin says it well.
Still, I find myself saying to a lot of people these days… there isn’t any other farce I’d rather be a part of than this one, this planet, this life, this experiment. Being alive is the most interesting thing to do for a hundred light-years in every direction from this spot. Even when it hurts, your life is still a totally unique and arresting experience, never to be repeated, and entirely private to you. It’s hard to want to look away.
I think sometimes it’s useful to remind ourselves that existing really is a choice. People who haven’t been suicidal might not think about that choice very often, but it is a choice you’re making every day. Why not make it with intention, or even enthusiasm? Why keep on living by accident, just because nothing has made you want to die yet?
Welcome to living! Side effects include:
Nausea, dizziness, physical pain,
burning in sunshine and waiting in rain,
a childish fixation on the crude.
Some users report hallucinations
(though most of those users come back for more)
We’re not sure what that pumping muscle’s for;
seems like all it’s good for’s palpitation.
Some may experience shortness of breath;
exhaustion’s basically guaranteed.
But if there’s any kind of fruit you need,
existence has the only fruit trees left,
and all the love, and sandwiches, and seeds –
nothingness is even less fun than death.