A very wise person sat me down today and told me that I had become a shell of my former self. In my unrelenting pursuit of personal growth I had ruthlessly stripped away my humanity. All I ever talk about anymore is real estate and poker. Under the guise of efficiency and dedication I had effectively become a one dimensional cliche; card playing, scotch swilling, snide commenting, broker-whore. Unfortunately she was absolutely right.
It takes a ton of nerve and a lot more compassion to put me in my place. Most people wouldn't take the time to steel themselves against the scathing tirades that rally in defense of my staunch self-denial. But she managed to hold a mirror up to my face long enough for me to see what I had wholeheartedly become of my own free will; a moderately successful underachiever on a one way track to becoming a lonely embittered old man who mutters to himself in the park.
The irony lies in the catalyst that set me upon this path about a decade or so ago. During college I learned that the secret to life was to enjoy it. What was most enjoyable at the time? Getting paid and getting laid. As the years wore on, an increasing amount of my actions were geared towards achieving those two very noble goals. Somewhere along the way I also learned that it is better to focus your energy on a single task; so nowadays the only thing that matters is getting paid.
Who doesn't like getting paid? All of history's greatest triumphs and darkest tragedies revolve around people trying to get paid. Ideally we would all get paid to do whatever our passions demand of us. Unfortunately there is only so much demand for Ninjas, cowboys, relationship advice columnists and princesses. To exacerbate the matter there are very few children who dream of becoming assembly line workers, dishwashers, disgruntled store managers and pamphlet distributors.
However us ever resourceful humans have devised countless methods of helping people bridge the mental and emotional gap between passion and profession, namely alcohol. Think back to the very first time that you did what you had to do instead of what you loved to do. The first time you did your homework instead of playing outside, the first time you took a summer job so you could go on a crazy spring break, the first time you put away your guitar and put on a tie, the first time you went home with the person you saw after the 10th shot instead of the one you were checking out in the coffee shop, the first time you worked a double so you could save for that down payment, the first time you bought sensible shoes instead of the ones that made your feet look like a Qing dynasty beauty but the rest of you look great, the first time you drove a minivan instead of a convertible.
The examples are endless, but we compromise our ideals for the sake of necessity we trade a little bit of our souls for some measure of solace. Solace in the fact that one day all of these little trades will pay off in a big way. Unfortunately for the vast majority of us we trade one too many pieces of our soul's true ambitions and we end up with an unrecognizable mess of half-baked plans; dead-end jobs, loveless marriages, spiteful kids, massive debt, and a massive void inside us that no amount of illicit affairs, shiny cars, oceanfront villas and fat bank accounts could ever hope to fill.
Talk about going off on a tangent.
Why did I suddenly discover that the secret to life was simply enjoying it?
I used to have much loftier goals. I wanted to save the planet, captain a starship, rid the world of greed, become a kung fu master and prosecute criminals to the fullest extent of the law. But after witnessing how much corruption, hypocrisy and self-serving duplicity is ingrained into so many people, I quite simply gave up. I lost my will to fight the good fight and instead focused all of my abilities on obtaining the most meaningless and transient things possible. So I find myself on a hedonic treadmill where nothing I earn is ever enough to quench my wants because of a deeply rooted self-loathing which stems from having surrendered to my baser instincts.
Where does this leave me?
I have a lot more writing to do. In her valiant attempt to salvage the remnants of my soul she suggested that I find something that I still enjoy doing outside of real estate and poker. Something that I can take pride in regardless of whether or not I actually make any money doing it. If in the course of pursuing said activity, I happen to make some money then I can try to turn it into a career I enjoy and then use it to achieve something and to make a positive contribution to some segment of society.
The first step was to create this blog. I have always enjoyed writing. Getting the words out of my head and onto paper or a screen is an extremely therapeutic pastime for me. Keeping all of these thoughts bottled up would have likely led to an psychotic breakdown.
For those who are reading my thoughts for the first time, welcome to the madhouse. I will transfer all of my old rants from Facebook in their entirety to this blog, so if you're bored at work and you want to have a couple of laughs, get a little angry and dip into the crazy then read through them. Just keep away from sharp objects and open windows.
For my veteran readers, thank you for taking the time to absorb what I have to say. Whether you take offense at this grammatically challenged raving loony asshole or take heart that there is a kindred spirit who shares in your frustrations, I hope that it at least makes you think. As long as we keep thinking there's a chance.
If I can be pulled back from the edge, anyone can.
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