6 months ago on this very website I made a blog post saying I was going to start a daily blog on stand-up comedy and writing. As I just mentioned, that was 6 months ago. Actually it was 7 months ago. Well, 6 and a half. April 22nd to be exact. But that's not important. What is important is that after I made a declaration to write a daily blog on stand-up and writing I haven't written a single blog. Not one. Which brings me to the topic of this blog post. Why is doing literally anything so hard?
Sure, doing some stuff seems like it might be easy. You might be saying "but Levi, I do all sorts of stuff every day with little to no difficulty. I wake up. I go to work. I brush my teeth. All sorts of things." Okay, lets actually go through that list you just came up with. Think of the immense difficulty of doing literally every one of those things starting with waking up. The fact that we have to wake up every day is proof that God is real and either he hates us or he abandoned us all a long time ago. Think of wonderful it is to be asleep. You're in a perfect state of relaxation, unaware of the harsh realities of reality. Think of the last dream you had. Even if it was a nightmare, there's a 100% chance it was better than whatever boring shit you're doing now. I mean, right now, you're reading this. Think of all the other shit you could be doing aside from reading this. You could go to a waterpark, but you're not going to, cause waterparks are dumb and everything's dumb and life is the real nightmare. There's no escaping it. Becoming an adult means accepting that there is no escape from the responsibilities of life. When you're a teenager you think "if I get rich and famous I'll be able to transcend the minutia of daily life and the monotony of life" but then when you become an adult (which usually happens around age 29-31 these days) you realize there is no transcending life. Life is quicksand, you think it sounds exciting and fun when you're a kid, but then you realize it's just a trap you are slowly sinking into from which there is no escape and the more you try to struggle the more you allow panic to grip your body and engulf your mind in fear and anxiety so it's best just to accept your fate and enjoy the scenery which you are inexorably attached to as you are swallowed by the earth because in the end gravity will kill us all. So yeah, waking up sucks.
Now going to work. I don't care what your job is, every day you go to work you are forced to contemplate what the repercussions of not going to work are. No one wants to go to work. You think in your head "well I could call in sick, but I mean, they'd know I'm lying. Everyone who calls in sick to work is lying. Literally no one ever has called in sick to work because they're actually sick." As I said before, God is dead, or hates us, one of the two and so he knows never to make us sick unless it's the weekend or Vacation or Christmas. This one time 11 years ago I was living in Victoria and all my housemates were going on a surf trip to Tofino and i really wanted to go but I was supposed to work, so I told my boss that my Great-grandmother had died. Now this is a pretty standard lie, except my Great-grandmother (Nanny) was about to die. She was 98 years old and had just had a stroke and was just waiting to die. Except she hadn't died yet. So I was essentially trading in my Nanny's future death for vacation (not a paid vacation. I was a barista at a bakery and anyone who makes minimum wage doesn't get vacations. Minimum wage jobs are how society punishes people for being either too poor or to get a better job. Society HATES poor people. If you've never worked a minimum wage job then you probably hate poor people too. Or if you haven't worked a minimum wage job in the last 20 years then you're almost definitely a baby boomer and you hate poor people and young people, which at this point for all intents and purposes are the same thing, but anyways.) So I figuratively killed my nanny for my weekend off. And God punished me for it by giving me crippling diarrhea the entire weekend. This was a camping vacation so this was a less than ideal time and place to be this gastrically distressed. Throughout the entire night I was having to get out of my tent and walk about a kilometre to the campsite bathroom and sit there for 45 minutes hoping that i had evacuated my system thoroughly enough that I could go back to the tent and sleep the rest of the night in peace, but I never had. Thinking back on that weekend now I remember having to shit roughly every 90 minutes the entire time, but realistically it was probably every 60 minutes. Time heals all wounds. And yet I still probably had a better time than I would've serving lattes to dying people in Royal Oak, the fancy part of Victoria. Every job since then has been some variation of the same thing. We wake up (with great difficulty) and think "how much do i like this life? Do I have the emotional fortitude to go into that place again, with its never-ending dreariness and monotony and accept that I am dying while doing menial tasks to make one person, who I have probably never even met, richer, everyone below him serfs to the profits of the owning class? How bad is being homeless really? I mean, like the homeless people I see on the streets and stuff, they seem pretty hard up, and I don't want to be judgemental or anything, not even in my own thoughts I'm thinking to myself, but I'm pretty sure all city-dwelling homeless are either addicted to drugs or have severe mental problems. But what about, like hobos and tramps? Are there still people living on trains? Cause that doesn't sound so bad? It certainly must be better than listen to fucking Susan from accounting talk about her fucking kids as if anyone cares. NO ONE FUCKING CARES SUSAN! I'm pretty sure I could do alright if I was a homeless. I mean, I've made it pretty far in this society with a roof over my head, I'm sure no roof couldn't be that much more difficult. I could shower at the YMCA or the city gym and there's so much free food everywhere if you really think about it. Maybe I could save enough to get a ticket to hawaii and be a homeless there. I mean I'm working to save money for vacations I guess? To go to Hawaii presumably. Why not just be homeless there instead? It's actually kind of a life hack if you think about it. Oh shit, it's 8:47am, I'm going to be late to work. I'll finish thinking about this when I get home" If you've never contemplated quitting your job to be a homeless person and how you would fare then you are definitely one of the 8 billionaires that have 50% of the wealth of the entire planet.
And brushing your teeth. My fucking god brushing your teeth is difficult. You know how as you get older it gets more and more difficult to get a good nights sleep. How you're always tired but you can never sleep. And you know how sometimes you're actually just so fucking tired, you're watching Netflix and by some small gift of mercy from a vengeful God, you're actually falling asleep without even trying to, all snuggly and warm on the couch there, temporarily relieved from the burden of your own existence as you drift away from lucidity. BUT YOU HAVE TO GET YOURSELF UP AND BRUSH YOUR TEETH OR ELSE THEY'LL LITERALLY FALL OUT OF YOUR SKULL. Fuckkkk. What is it with human teeth? Why do they suck so fucking much. What kind of horrible design flaw is this, that they require constant maintenance to just not break or rot or fall out of our head. Imagine if right now, all of a sudden, knees started requiring the same maintenance. How long would it be before we just said fuck it? How much do we really need our legs to bisect at the middle and bend anyways? We've got elevators. Sports are on their way out. This is just really too much hassle. It's only because we've been collectively conditioned since birth to accept brushing our teeth as a necessary maintenance that we all don't revolt and rip our teeth straight from our heads. So this is very difficult, this tedium of teeth brushing.
Which is why I have not written a blog post. Everything is difficult. Nothing will ever get easier and god hates us. Come back tomorrow for another blog post. I'm really going to write one this time.