How I’m Still Alive

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My life sort of defies sense and so I get a lot of questions about my existence. Usually people are surprised because I don’t have a lot of melanin and they don’t realize that poverty is transracial. The Stanford degrees don’t help. There aren’t a whole lot of childhood sex trafficking victims who went to Stanford. If you achieve academically, we seem to have come to the belief that you can’t have suffered. It’s a strange phenomenon. This is literally the only time in history this has been the case. Some of us slip through the system, you guys. Your system isn’t that good at keeping every poor person out. You have to let a few of us through or else it is obvious that what you have is an aristocracy. That’s why you have tokens. Nowadays we assume that no one succeeds unless they had a good upbringing. I’m sure its rooted in someone’s academic paper back in the 80s, but just to clarify: ACADEMIC PERFORMANCE IS NOT A METRIC FOR OPPRESSION.

Poverty is very real in this country and I can still read. That’s rights, folks, many of my medical problems can be traced to MALNUTRITION. But I’m still alive to crack jokes about it.

Because I’m a boss is why. 

Once people find out how difficult my life has been they often ask me silly questions, like “why are you still alive?”

I say this is silly because I wasn’t aware there was a choice in the matter. What am I supposed to do? Become depressed and give up, not while I can shove it in your faces that I’m still alive. Not while I can still be DELICIOUSLY RIGHT ABOUT EVERYTHING.

Oh how I love being right, because you never listen to me and I love being validated. But I also love being alive.

In fact, despite multiple deaths, rapes and a history of horrible abuse I rarely get suicidal beyond an hour or so at random. I actually really love life and am happy-go-lucky most of the time. I suspect that if there weren’t music and hot chocolate that would change but even in my darkest hour I’ve been able to find something that amuses me enough to appreciate the miracle of existence. I’m probably incredibly lucky, I was blessed with that disposition. My ability to intellectualize probably helps, during the repeated rapes I often solved math problems and thought about science.

Sometimes I wonder if I live mostly just out of a rebellious nature.

I live out of spite. I’m not supposed to be alive and people tell me they wouldn’t have made it all the time.

So why am I still alive?

Just to torment you, mostly. I’ve decided this is the best possible response to this question.

Much like Will, I always choose the wrench. ALWAYS.

I dunno why I’m still alive.

But I am.

Just to be a jerk.

Or something like that.

Naw, I’m still just kidding. There actually is an ideological and theological reason.

I figure that the multi-verse is so vast, and ever expanding that the fact that molecules formed into me is something of a miracle I have to be a narcissist not to appreciate. It’s not so much a belief in God, as it is a refusal to play God. Ultimately I am a tiny, insignificant creature on a tiny insignificant planet on one of many timelines. Who am I to mess with that?

I’m not convinced I serve some sort of special purpose, the absurdity of existence is that none of this matters. This universe will one day be gone and so will I. But I’m going to have a damn good time enjoying the miracle in the meantime.

In the great expanse of time, I’m not here that long. So who am I to try to control any of it?

There’s something incredibly empowering about assuming you will one day die and become irrelevant, which is why I’m so into astrophysics. It reminds me that none of it matters. This is what I watch when I’m depressed.

The fact that none of it matters is ok with me, because if none of it matters then I can spend my day picking dandelions off the ground and telling people they are beautiful because I like spreading love like that. But I don’t do it to change the future, I do it because it makes me feel good and I’m more than a little convinced that the best thing to do with our time here is to spread as much love as possible. Not because it matters, not because it changes the future or some deity told me so but just because it makes it easier for me to exist in the midst of absurdity.

If you fall in love with absurdity the way I do, it all becomes easier.

Camus was so hot, you guys


So depending on your orientation this has either been horribly depressing or incredibly uplifting. I’m alive because I like it and because I’m not God and I’ll go when my time is up.

In the meantime, I’m gonna keep handling my suffering like everyone else has handled immense suffering throughout history.

You wanna feel good about life?

Study the Middle Ages. It was gross and people were still trying to live as hard and as long as possible.

About a week….


Who am I to act like I’m more special than the people who had to live through the Black Plague?

This is a completely accurate depiction. It was horrible.

We were all lied to in Middle School, jousting is barbaric nonsense. This was the theme song of the Middle Ages.

Rape’s been a pretty constant feature of history, that’s why I don’t feel weird talking about it. I was a history major, I studied that stuff for fun. This is the kind of shit that happens to rape victims throughout time. Which makes me lucky!

Reminder: We are only one government destablization from witch burnings and stonings

Our time isn’t as bad as it seems, and even if it were… eh… we’ve seen worse. And someone lived through that to make super cool art and pass on their genes and to write about it.

I mean, Rome was no picnic folks. Fellini wasn’t lying about how awful it was

But if you want to know what I do on my dark days? I’ll tell you:

I put on my headphones, remind myself just how not special I am and listen to music entirely too loud. I remind myself what a miracle music is and then I make myself a snack, because cooking and food are miracles too. I listen to something funny and stupid and I laugh my ass off. I’ve seen every South Park episode many times, because it keeps me alive. Then I study some history and remind myself that it’s a miracle that our species even exists. Or I watch things like Cosmos and remind myself that the universe does not give a shit about me and that it’s crazy our planet even exists.

The secret is: it all becomes a lot easier if you assume everything is a miracle. Because everything is. And that means you are too. 


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