The first step to recovery is to admit that you have not failed anyone

There's a part of me who wants to beg forgiveness for my ungenerous moments. That part of me is a pussy. Fuck generosity.

My problem is that what I mistake for generosity is actually a laying down of arms, of putting down the Magnum, lying on the sidewalk and being trampled by dirty soccer cleats. The world is full of ungenerous people, but the world is equally full of people who can't tell a good deed from a soft back, a moment of empathy from a fear of being yourself. I feel (and this is just a feeling, an uneducated opinion) that, in a way, Hilary Clinton was right: young people are lazy. Not in that they don't work hard at school or at their jobs. On the contrary, quite a few of us are almost pathologically ambitious, but it's not that kind of laziness that plagues us. It is an inner laziness, a spiritual laziness, an abject refusal to dig deep and question where our ideologies of self come from. Why do we feel the way we do? Why do we hate ourselves? Why is the ground beneath us made of such fine, crumbling sand?

There are often times where I watch people and I wonder if they see themselves for how they really are. This is presumptive of me, because of course who am I to judge someone's authenticity? But a lack of authenticity stinks of fear so strong you can feel it burn in your chest with pity or impatience depending on your mood. This is the kind of fear that leads us to be self-indulgent when it comes to the attention of others, that leads to indecision, inconsideration, incomplete answers to the question "Well, what do you want?" What do YOU want? Do you want status, a full Rolodex, a big loft and used condoms littering your walk-in closet? Well, I'll tell you, you can have them. No sweat. Well, a little sweat. And some time. But you will have them, if you want them. And there is no one in the world who is allowed to tell you that those are petty desires. But just because you've satisfied a desire does mean that you have filled yourself in any way.

Because there is a difference between Wanting and wanting. The difference is that the one kind slips into your veins so sneakily you might as well be breathing it; and the other is real. You Want that job, those tits, that man, whatever. But what you want is deeper, something you desire so badly that it becomes sacred and you don't say it because in a way it is obvious and in another way it doesn't need to be said. It is this desire that makes us human and relatable, but for whatever reason we've buried this want and adorned its casket with useless shit. We've distanced ourselves from our true heart's desire, and we are dying in loneliness because of it. The only real solution is to dig for it, not to placate ourselves, but to suffer in the name of discovering our name.

Make no mistake: this is hard work, it will not come easy, but when it does (or so I am promised) you will feel a peace that comes with true freedom. Someone out there is going to say "I know what I want. I want to be happy." That's barely scratching the surface. This is not a cry for treatises, it is a cry for introspection, not a cry for destinations but for journeys. And silent ones at that. Your want is silent, it is a feeling and I imagine you will know it when you know it. I will end with a thought I stole (and shall now paraphrase) off a chalkboard in front of a yoga studio:

Who would I be without this recurring thought?


Ungenerously yours,

I


If I were jar, I would be filled with...golfishes. The live ones, not the crackers.