Mar 24

I've said it before. I'll say it again. This blog is not really for consumption. Not designed to be read. It is just part of the back of my brain, talking into the void. A narrator of the Truman Show.

Its content is... not great. Dark. At times brutal. It dances with nihilism in a very real and awful way.

And its author, me, is not entirely sane. Or balanced. In a way that's conducive to trip happily through a human life.

Corrosive.

But not through being mean, or hating.  Just. From looking too deeply into the meaningless of existence. Being. Truthful. Even though sometimes thats an utterly stupid thing to be. And a good dose of shitty chemicals swimming around my brain only allowing me to see grey instead of the colours of a spectrum.

It is all, perhaps, subjective. Perhaps those that see the happy colours of the rainbow are deluded. And the realists simply see the "truth".

There is no truth.

Just subjective reality.

Believe what you will, it's all bullshit at the end of the day anyway. Heat death of the universe and all that.

A doc once said to me, that perhaps what I had was a gift. A gift to be able to see the problems, and the awfulness, communicate it, and do something about it.

A pretty positive spin on a dark place.

I can see what he meant. I am not sure I really agree.

Anywho.

You've been warned. Turn back. And read something happy and positive instead.

This evening a really dark and sad mood has crept over me. I slouched in bed with Athena snuggled up beside me. Occasionally she'd look up for a head scratch. And in her sleepy moments it was horribly obvious how old she now was. Every month that passes take its toll. Old. And tired. I can see the time ticking away from her in horrific torturous fashion.

I know. That I shouldn't think like that. Think positive. Think of the great life. Etc. Etc.

I am tired, of always having to try to be positive.

To always trying to find the silver lining to the shit show.

Life for me seems to be an endless struggle. Of health. Of mental health. Of trying to justify how shit everything is with a positive flourish. A coping strategy. Some excuse to keep on trucking for just one more day.

I am tired of pretending.

It's shit.

I am smart enough. I know all the tricks. The whys. The wherefores. The different perspectives.

But I am here to say, unequivocally. It's shit.

Back to Athena. We went for a walk today. I felt so so queasy. It was a nice walk. But, of course, I felt ill. But still. A nice day. When we go out for a walk, she is younger. Passes for a dog years younger. But when she stops. And sleeps. The years pile on. And you realise just how old she is.

It is how life is. How all of it is. It's not some rare unlucky occurrence. It's just how it is. How its always been.

And beyond that. With the world as it is. People as they are.

Life is an endless struggle. With tiny fleeting moments of distraction. A prickle of frivolity maybe.

Mehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Perhaps it's just my demons talking to me. Telling me how shit it all is.

The problem is. My demons sound exactly like me. I can't tell the difference. They have my voice. My arguments. They are .. me.

If I cannot trust me. . . who do you trust ? If you cannot trust your eyes. Your thoughts. What can you do ? Madness.

Just. Believe that it will pass. That it's not quite you. Wait. You've waited before. There are better days.

Mmm.

Always tomorrow. My life is just one non ending plod of survival. I am tired.

This evening. Making tea. I realised I was tired of it all. A bone deep weariness. I am tired. Of trying. I just want it all to stop. To die.

I'm ok. "OK". I look. Sane. And peaceful. Which makes it worse. It's not some bouncing off the wall crazy turn. It's a horrible cold, rational, meticulous conclusion.

But again. Perhaps it's just my demons.

If someone were to enter my house. Aim a gun at my head. I would not care. Or struggle. Please look after Athena. But that would be it.

Bang.

Gone.

It would not be a loss. Should not be a sad thing. Just a race that has been run. We all die at some point. Inevitable. Do that positive spin bullshit. Look at the life lived. The non suffering anymore. Yada. Blah.

Sigh.

Eh well.

I've been worse than this. I am. Kinda ok. Just. Really super fucking bleak. I've been worse. I don't feel compelled to go commit suicide right now, right this minute for instance.

Hum ho.

Noodled with work today. Reduced a multi step piece of bullshit set of calculations that a whole slew of our customers have been doing for decades down to a single statement, a + b * c ( literally this ). It is. Epically more efficient. Scaleable. Simplifies the original page of equation bullshit down to its easiest and most powerful form.

A thing of beauty. Cutting through all the noise and bullshit and faffy attempts by people not really understanding math or the problem, into a pure form.

Amazing.

I should know better. But I explained it to Andy.

He didn't understand it. No offence to him per se. He couldn't understand if it was good, or bad, or what I was saying. Couldn't see the simplification.

Which, I guess, is half the point. Possibly. If it were that easy, it would have been done already.

Still. Made me slightly sad. I'm orbiting a different planet. Giving solutions to impossible problems.

He asked if it meant it was now better.

Yes or No.

On or off.

Make it that simple.

Yes. It's better. It actually works for what we need it for now ( mass scaleability ).

Hum ho.

I was still pleased with myself about it though. I had blown up a decade or more of dozens of people fumbling their way through something. Into a single simple line. Just by doing a whole bunch of trickery and mathyness before you even approach the problem. A bit like those equations that only work when the value is zero. So you adjust everything to be zero before you start. Then reverse it.

Easy. When you know how.

I. Do. Kinda get it. Sometimes. I think. I am scary smart. Maybe. Other times. Eh. An idiot. And as has been stated before. Scary smart or idiot, doesn't actually make any difference anyway. Same shit. Different colour. If money doesn't buy happiness, then being smart actively buys unhappiness. By that measure. It's doubly stupid. Then again, there is proper stupid. Most of the Trumpers in the US.

What's the lesson ?

There isn't one. It's all shit. No matter what label is affixed to your stupid head.

None of it matters.

Anywho.

Pfft.

Life goes on. Apparently. Because. That's what we are doing.

Tomorrow I am due to go down to my brothers. I have a bunch of stuff arranged to do.

I am not entirely sure I can do shit except just... stare at the ceiling like a vegetable.

I don't know. I guess I will try. Do the thing. Stick on the face.

Tired. So tired.

And I am watching the closest most loved thing left in my life, slowly slip away from me. And one day soon, I will have nothing left.

Perhaps. It is just my demons talking.

Perhaps.

Perhaps not.

Demons or no, they still might have a point.