Keep it Together

It's hard to deal with things. That's OK, but it's hard to deal with things. 

There's a lot of stuff going on in the world, and a lot of people are saying a lot of things (most of them are kinda stupid and rash, but that's another issue). These things make me think things, and blogs are a good place to express thoughts, but I don't think I want to do that. I'm not interested in ruffling your feathers, changing your opinion of me/a situation that you don't want to be influenced on. 

As a result, I've been staring at a blank post for quite a while, trying to figure out what to say. If I don't talk about what's going on in the world - in Paris, in Beirut, in Maryland (student with gun on campus today, Monday), in Syria, and in about a thousand other places in the world, then I may be ignoring the problems and bottling up my emotions. If I do talk about what's going on in all of these places, then I'm putting my stupid opinion out there into the world, adding to the collective idiocy of reacting, overreacting, analyzing, analyzing reactions, overreacting to reactions, inflating, finger-pointing, shouting, name-calling, generalizing, and so much more. 

Neither of those strike me as good.

Do I talk about basketball instead? Do I not post at all? Do I mention how nice it was to watch like 5 minutes of the Browns game and otherwise be busy for most of Sunday? Do I mention how everything that doesn't happen directly in front of me feels separate from my life, and in a way, inevitable? Do I talk about how there are constant threats to nearly everyone and that despite all of that constant fear we're impressed with, most of us are not being shot at daily, blown up, suicide bombed, murdered, run over, beaten up, robbed, or stabbed? 

Or do I try telling a funny story to lighten the mood and let us relax a little bit and hope to feel normal again?

One time in high school I had a dream that I walked into the laundry room at my parents' house and laid on the floor and looked at the handful of ants that were on the floor at the bottom of the pantry (likely because there was a mouse-trap with peanut butter for them to eat). During the dream I slowly started picking at them and eating them before ultimately walking away and into the next room, where I opened a mini-fridge and pulled a few bottles of Gatorade out. Then the dream faded and I woke up like any other morning. When I got home from school my brother asked me why I came out into that next room and pulled Gatorade bottles out onto the floor and what I was doing in the laundry room pantry.

I sleep-walk-ate ants. And they weren't gross enough to actually wake me up.

The point is that writing a stupid little story like that felt like the best option instead of talking more about what's going on in the world that sucks, because it's hard to deal with things. People you know might be going through very personal problems and they'll have different ways of dealing with those things. Generally, there's not a "right" way to do that, and while there are some terrible ways, it's hard to say that they're "wrong" because you're not in their shoes. If I live in a van and haven't bathed in six weeks, but I'm happy, don't tell me to fix my life. If you live in a castle and are miserable, maybe reconsider. Just know that the way you deal with things is probably unique to you and is probably the way you deal because it's the least awful one you could think of.

I have another ant-eating story.