Wednesday, January 16, 2013


Harder, better, faster, stronger. It's what most of us want to be. I like the song by Daft Punk and the Kanye postlude, "Stronger" (despite his narcissism and his obsession with Haute Couture). Both tunes are on many playlists I use for feeling good and get me going. I've always felt however, that they/we could could just sum it up with the word "better", but this is why these artists make a generous living selling music while I do not. I think this band of two plus one rapper most likely live by their word. Imagine the life West imagined for himself growing up. Do you think he knew he would be a multi-multi-millionaire due to his artistic endeavors? Did he imagine that he would become the baby-daddy to one of the world's most desirable women? Did he always feel viscerally loved and hated- and did he exploit that knowledge in the best way possible?
I want to be better, and I don't know how. I want to be better and I know how but can't won't take the steps necessary to make myself so. The thoughtful decisions I make put me on the path to be good. That path is unfortunately narrow, badly lit, helical and suspicious. I've strolled and even ran down this road many times. Like driving through the desert in Nevada, the shiny lights of Vegas always reel me in for debauchery/fun as I veer off the freeway and settle in the City of Sin (sin=fun).
I get tired on this good path. I get lonely. I get bored. I get frustrated and resentful. At least when I choose to take the trail that promotes "fun" I am a familiar pilgrim. I know exactly what to expect at the end of that road. My brain tells me flashiness and excitement are in store for me immediately- and if there are two things I love in this world it's immediacy and joy. I think I'm allergic to hard work and we know that's what it takes to be "better" in all aspects of life. I am disciplined and comfortable in the area of being depressed, and with depression comes an aversion to being alive.  If I'm going to be alive I need to be better. I wish I could have a clearer picture of what the good road leads to. Happiness and success are too broad for me to conceptualize. I just don't know what these things mean to me, anymore. Do I want a lover who is also my partner? Yes, I think so. Am I capable of that? Probably, but I haven't given myself a fair shot at it in years. This can only mean that in fact I don't want a partner/boyfriend/husband. Do I want a family of my own/kids/pets? Yes, I think so. Unfortunately being a woman means I have an expiry date and my timeline for accomplishing this particular task gets shorter by the day. Because I can so often get sick (therefor unable to take care of myself) how can I realistically expect to take care of someone else? It's all fine and well to say that people change, but I've lived with myself for almost thirty-six years. Wouldn't I have taken the steps to build on that kind of responsibility if I had so wanted it? Do I want a successful career and a comfortable financial situation? Yes, I think so. Now ask yourself why I have decided to focus my life's "work" on ventures that are completely unstable, rarely expedient and emotionally debilitating.
There are truths none of us can deny regardless of how much we want to. If we want to be "better" we simply have to be willing to do what it takes. The path to goodness for me is more like walking on a balance-beam. I smoke though my lung has collapsed three times, I have a heart condition, 3 out of 4 grandparents had lung cancer and beyond the fact that I'm extremely vain & understand cigarettes age you. This is the best example I can think of to describe my weakness as a person. I wish I could remember what it feels like to play to win. A lot of my life has been me telling my gym teacher I have my period and can't join in the game. Sometimes I'm forced to play so I go through the motions, counting down in my head to when I can be alone to suffer privately. I want to be on the winning team but I always root for the underdog because they work really hard with only a shade of recompense. I don't understand the point to it all. I see comics around me busting their balls, writing new jokes, going to the clubs every night and making their presence known. I watch writers get meetings, jobs and money because they had something to bring to the table when their time came. I know actors who struggled for years and when it was their turn at the plate, they knocked it out of the park. I always wanted to leave some blood in the ring, myself. Or do I? Because I keep taking the turn-off for "not better, but same awful", instead of the exit/entryway to "harder, better, faster, stronger".  Having it all is surely possible for me as much as anyone else. I think I have to want something- at least one thing, first. How can I possibly figure out what that one thing might be if I can't drag my ass out of bed, shower in five days, or open a curtain? That said, I'm not looking for your pity, since I have an abundance of it self-hatching.
I never thought life was meant to be easy or even understood. I won't be able to figure out what mine is about until i brush my teeth, wash my hair, and exchange words to other human beings beyond food deliverers.
Do I want to be better? Yes, I think so. But I'm not sure.


Anonymous said...

We here at Fanshawe love you hun.


Anonymous said...

Wow you expressed how I feel. Thank you so much for sharing Claire. One day at a time, girl.

Anonymous said...

Maybe you still haven't found the right thing to get you out of bed in the morning. I hope you do find it - something that makes you excited for the day and able to get out of bed smiling. Something that makes working at it FUN.

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