But what the fuck is a nightlight? There is no me, but I am awake at 04:37 I don’t know what day straight, not sure if I’m dreaming. I think I’m the smoke in between two mirrors. Stars are fallin’, I can hear them. I crave for a never ending snow, still, silent. I want the world to stop. My bones are cold. I guess I got cold bones, if that’s a thing. But it never stops. The fallin’ stars are leaves. The present always leaving. Hope it’s not something I did. Pretty much all I can do. Whereas the only thing the world can do is ping-pong from structure to entropy. All I can think about is how I’m just a dancing shadow and how that should free me from the darkness. But a dancing shadow in the darkness of the night doesn’t really stand out. At least a flickering light would be nice to be, even if in free fall. The great nothing masquerading as something you can name.
You know what I think? I think everybody feels trapped when they stop. I think everybody feels guilty for no reason. Being depressed is truly a satanic state, because, in general, depression has gone beyond being circumstantial, has gone beyond being a result of stimuli outside of yourself, and is now just a result of some kind of reoccurring, awful cascade that has actually maybe even created changes in your neurology in a way that your engines aren’t firing appropriately, so you feel tired, you can’t get anything done, and you feel alone, and you feel like everything around you is tasteless and empty. And I speak from a place of having been deep down this horrible pit. It’s kind of a gateway. And the gatekeeper is yourself. And the gatekeeper is asking you this incredible riddle in every moment, which is “why live?” And if you can answer that riddle, the gate will swing open and you will be allowed out of this awful net and into the party that is life.
You will find that when you’re depressed your attention is being grabbed every second by either negative thought patterns or by external hypnotic devices, for example TV, video games, the internet, or bad people that you shouldn’t be around. And if you see these variables, if just for fun, a thought experiment, you think to yourself, at this moment I am in a hypnotic trance where I am being distracted by this grem lin in the form of various indulgences that I keep going into; it sort of raises the stakes a little bit. Because, if you say I’m gonna listen to music doing nothing for the next 5 hours, looking at your cigarette in the ashtray, seeing your messy room, you can do that, even if you know it sucks. But if you say “holy fuck, I am in the intestinal tract of satan” and these video games and people, and alcohol, and drugs, and laziness are the assets that are dissolving my will, and has dissolved my will to the point that I can barely move, I am stuck like one of those flies in a spider web, and I’m just in the last moments of my life, underneath some dark cabinet, waiting for someone to throw me into a garbage can or drown me. Suddenly it might spark this thing inside you that makes you decide to fight. ‘Cause that’s what the fucking trick is, man. This is where it gets fun. It’s because suddenly you realize you’re alive, which up until this point might have just seem empty wandering through these synthetic, plastic landscape that is modern life, transforms into this epic battle against the dark lord, you can call it whatever you wanna call it, by the way. You get to name the fucking thing. But it’s fun to personify the negative entropic mechanisms that have arisen in your life and recognize that you are in a sacred battle with it. And if you win this battle against this terrific foe, which can transform into so many delightful things, then you will climb out of it a warrior. You can overcome the depression. You just have to first recognize that you are in a fight for your life. ‘Cause that’s what fucking depression is, a fight for your fucking life.
And what does it mean? It means that every single aspect, every single thing surrounding you, the porn, the video games, the drugs, the shitty food, the fucked up girlfriend or boyfriend, the friend that only hurts you instead of giving you positive guidance and love, the family member that, I don’t know, could have molested you when you were growing up, the person you’re pretending to forgive that you haven’t really forgiven, all of these are like the heads of this grem lin, this beast, call it whatever you wanna call it. Recognize it for what it is. And then, when you raise the stakes and work yourself into a braveheart style warrior, and decide that you wanna live, that’s when you put up the fucking fight.