B: So do you feel bad about that?
X: I have two thoughts on it. First, there is a lot of regret. I was too young, obsessive and ##### to know what was in front of me. And I didn’t even know that I was ##### when I was; it used to wreck me and I would have no idea why and she suffered the effects of that too. There is also regret about having caused someone I loved so much pain. But that’s the other thing. You know, I saw my #### in India and that was really crazy. It also reminded how much other people are affected when you’re #####, and I’m scared of making anyone else go through that. I mean, I’m actually kind of happy that things didn’t work out because what if I can’t get a handle on this thing, then she and her family would be sucked into that hell too and I don’t want to live with that. I’d rather suffer alone than make someone else repeat my experience.
B: Yea, you can rationalize it like that, but those who love you will be there to support you through that. Yea, it would be hard, just like if your wife were dying but they would be there for you; that’s what it’s about. And you’re just rationalizing not getting close to people.
X: Yea, I know. I’ve thought about that too and it’s probably true. But I’m genuinely scared.
B: No doubt. And I can feel you on ###### getting to you cause I recently saw ### hanging out with another # and it bothered me too. And I haven’t dated # in a long time. I can’t even imagine how I’d react if I saw ## with someone else; this is so much more recent.
X: Yea, it’s crazy. There is just no such thing as a life without regret. If you don’t regret something then you haven’t fucking done much with your life.
B: But you can’t dwell on that either. You have to let it go and move on.
X’s eyes gloss over on hearing the cliché advice. B notices this.
B: I’m sure you’ve heard that before, but it’s still true.
X: I’ve lost my faith in that narrative, that everything happens for a reason, or whatever wording it takes. I need faith in that story again.
B: It’s probably something someone made up just so we could continue to live our life and give us some peace. But it’s helpful.
In the Darkness
Y: Don’t talk about death like that. So casually. It makes me nervous
X: I don’t mean suicide death, I have a different idea of what that means. For me, to die would be to give up my life and ambitions, thank my family for everything, and then volunteer for an organization in the service of others and just do that completely. It would be a surrendering of all dreams, hopes, ambitions, whatever, an emptying of my life and transform myself into an empty server. That’s my idea of a suicide.
Y: Yes, working for others would be great. It would give you time until your desires came back.
X: This is true. They always come back. [Maybe the idea would fail completely]
X: Know what else I’ve been thinking about?
Y: Hm, tell me.
X: We were talking about our admiration for Nietzsche’s courage, for daring to unmoor the world from whatwere, for his life-world, the founding absolutes, for daring to see what happens when you destroyed the key meaning making narratives.
But, and I haven’t read enough Nietzsche to know, but it seems to me that there continues to be one narrative that persists, especially in Human Rights discourse. And that is the inherent value of a human life. I mean, we know that our living existence in the world, especially the first world, means that we take up too much space, consume too much food, water, energy and whatnot. We are criminal by our very existence.
So why is there an inherent value or dignity to human life? How does that have any kind of foundation? It doesn’t seem to me to be something to be reasoned out, but a felt assumption, the ground on which all other creations are built.
Y: Yes, it’s the final fortress of meaning.
X: Well said. I don’t know. When I’m in this space, I just cease to understand to feel that foundation. It just doesn’t make sense. And if that doesn’t make sense, then getting out of bed and going through a day is damn impossible.
Y: Yes.
