Apr 18, 2007

Have you ever wanted to shoot somebody?

Has the thought, in frustration or fury, ever crossed your mind? Be honest. I know you didn’t mean it. You were just pissed that day, when that motherfucker cut you off, and you slammed on the brakes just in time to see his “W” bumpersticker.

You were just overloaded that night in the club, waiting for your flaky girlfriend who was late as usual, when that random chick dumped her drink down your leg and looked at you like she couldn’t believe you’d got in her way.

You were just kidding, sort of, when you joked with your friend about dancing on your evil boss’s grave. And god knows, when it comes to Al Qaeda, Saddam, Cheney, Rove, and the asshole who keyed your car, well, are they really contributing anything we’d miss?

Everyone thinks it, off and on. But most of us would never do it. Why?

Maybe your life’s been a little darker. Maybe you’ve walked through some tunnels you couldn’t see the end of, stopped believing there’d be an end to, couldn’t get anyone to help you with, or even take you seriously. Maybe you’ve been abused, disbelieved, raped, betrayed. Maybe you’ve been bullied unmercifully for all your life. Should anyone ever have to learn the meaning, the deepest extent, of crushing humiliation—of sickening dread—of paranoid terror—of soul-deadening isolation?

No, of course not. But some do. Some are learning that right now, as you read this.

And this is considered acceptable loss by the majority of this society, so that the majority can pass unthinkingly, unseeingly, past those that are in true pain.

Every day you walk, jacking your jaw into that cell phone, past someone who’s contemplating suicide. I guarantee it. Maybe you’ve walked past me.

A large percentage of my life has been spent struggling against the darkness. Abuse, illness, bullying, sexual assault, and what can euphemistically be called “bad spiritual advice”, have all been a part of my life. And I know I’m not alone. Problem was, I went through most of it alone, and I deal every single day with the twists it’s rendered in my perspective. How much can you relate?

I’ve had suicidal—and murderous—thoughts before. There’s something inside me that keeps either from being an option for me. A heart? Sanity? A conscience? I’m lucky to have it. Because how much resources does our society allocate nowadays, to ensuring everyone has it? Not nearly enough, obviously.

I’ve watched, and felt with my heart, our society become more isolated, more disconnected, more tight and oppressive. I’ve seen the people in the world around me, who in my childhood would have been cautiously tolerant, become terrified of anyone they didn’t know, unfriendly and closed off, coated in some sort of psychological Teflon. People grow nervous when asked for help. Lawsuits, liability, looking stupid, getting fucked over and dragged under themselves—people turn away. I’ve seen it, because it’s happened to me.

I’m a happy person nowadays, mainly because I stopped giving a fuck about what society expected me to make of my life, and started following my heart. Too bad we don’t teach children to do that, right from the cradle. Maybe they’d stop shooting each other.

Too bad we’ve all been reduced to trying to keep our own heads above water, telling ourselves we’re shocked when somebody drowns.

I’ll never kill anybody, except in self-defense, blah blah blah. You’re still safe, from me at least. Fortunately for all of us, most people have enough willpower to not let the experience of life crush the desire for life–and respect for it–out of them. Do you? While you’re attending the vigils this week, saying heartfelt prayers of condolence (and gratitude that it wasn’t you), why not search your heart, too? You might be surprised at how much we’re all part of this problem.

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