onus ‘24: ‘It’s not deep at all
It’s 2 am this Thursday, and even though my eyes and rière maximus scream tired, I’m beginning to see the synergies between this routine and sustainability.
Speaking of which:
Tilts laptop and overthinks first intro because it has a save-me-broke-me tone, drops the UV termite, texts before-man to set a trap so I can add to the hate-him-for-this list, realizes I just did it and can’t take it back, kisses teeth. Boils with indifference that has now replaced the sting, shrugs it off because, in the end, the crazy met the tamer. Adjusts crown, picks up my flicker-beast that’s supposed to be my now-man, sub-vocalizes intro 2, backspaces it because my audience would dig the first. In a silent duel, I hunt shorter synonyms to prove my editor wrong that I indeed do not fancy 2K words. Smiles at the 5-minute work done, replies to texts from fellow psychopaths, smiles again at my thought police as he shuffles in, and replies in retro-happy as I have already reached my talking curfew. Goes through the night crawlers’ statuses and finds relatable rubbish, guffaws in muffles because the nipling cannot afford to wake up. Proceeds to worry about how I’ve been on the Little Life book since Dec ’23, swipes through minimized screens, leaves only the book screen in delusion, hits the power button, readjusts the termite, remembers I need more social depth for that piece, sighs in mortified because I can see the power button smirk at my discombobulation, ignores the bastard and heads over to X comments in search of the ‘depth,’ backslides into engagement farmers and their baits, doses off, does the Tanjiro self-reassurance thing, feels the freshly made bed and ignores the sexual appeal, rinse, repeat…
I hear voices in the same order every night.
Don’t cry, there’s more to do.
You took the bait, sorry bet*
What are you trying to prove?
You know exactly what you’re fighting for…
It’s not that deep at all, everyone knows this, and they take breaks.
I agree because I’m beginning to understand that sleep is not the enemy; I am.
I think about how I don’t even indulge caffeine to man this cycle up and I again agree that it’s me.
Or perhaps capitalism is.
The ever-present boogeyman.
Some schools of thought say that the universe just falls into position for you after you’ve put in the work, I say yes because I have never seen destiny’s design manifest without work.
It makes sense to be the bait right now.
Inevitably, at some point in existence, most people begin to become two-faced. I don’t mean this in a negative way, I just believe this adaptability is necessary, especially if you’re always the head for the crown and the shoulder for the pain or climb.
Everyone automatically presumes you’ve mastered one of life’s puzzles and it doesn't stop there. They’ll come for you, they’ll ask you how they can become you or be something at least. And you’ll say it’s a gradual process and forget to emphasize the work they have to put in and the possibility that they might lose some parts of the dreams of their youth in the process of becoming.
It might not even be that you forgot to tell them or you’re closed off, sometimes you just want to see if their mind is really made up and if what they really meant to ask is: Victory, are there any shortcuts to being x, y, and z?
Because, truly, the beauty in the work comes at a later date. Not now.
Ultimately, remembering that it’s not that deep and that life should be a little of this ‘n that, is what keeps me grounded most days. I could be fighting for my life and sending ‘kindly-review’ messages, and on some other days I could be staring at the struggling monitor on my improvised leg table and laughing at all the shenanigans I missed out on in the past two weeks before proceeding to actually give in to a brief oblivion and abandon the laptop in alt+f4 for hours.
Enemy or victim? In this self-made purgatory, the distinction hardly matters, and all I can think about is—that’s what your 2024 is about, at least for now.
Hasta luego, boys and girls.
