We love what vanishes, and so that must mean you love me, because I have been gone for a few days...

I've been away from you even though I did not go to the Rave this weekend like I planned to.  The rave was across town and was not easy to get to since the recession has caused public transportation on the weekends to be drastically reduced.


But back to blogging.  


I will take an unusual route in our discussion today I'm going to start off by asking you a series of questions.


Have you ever sat around your house in sweat soaked socks with the full known knowledge that taking your socks off could make your less uncomfortable?


Maybe you haven't.  Then maybe you have no idea what Kevin Smith is talking about in Clerks when he writes that, "I'm not the kind of person that disrupts things in order to shit comfortably."


Do you wake up with an emptiness in your heart that you can't fill?  A lot of people do.  Do most of those people become drug addicts?  


Can you survive a double drop of E without a freakout? After you discover the vigor that double dropping e can provide, do you then chase the e with a couple of Vicodin? Just to calm shit down, you know, not because you are some kind of crazy drug addict.


Do you need answers now?


Maybe your synapses are stinging from all my questioning.  Maybe I should let you go, and we should stop with all this suspicion, and maybe...just maybe the buzzing in your head... (what you have rightfully diagnosed as:)  "Serotonin Syndrome" won't be fatal after all.


I say push forward.  


I'm sure your good friend Fredrick would think that your "suspicious" are good for you.  Of course we should ask if he knows "The Genealogy of Psychology" any better than the Scientologists do.   He could be mistaken, and all this questioning may not be good for you.  The truth is your brain really may be frying.


First We Should Just Face The Facts.  


Some of you should not try to be drug addicts.  


Just because I can get away with something, doesn't me that you can.  I know you wish to follow me as I slide down the ivory tower of anomie into the pit of absurdity.  But you can't.  Unlike you, I am a nihilist, and so I can't encourage my (non?) beliefs on anyone.  


I have left the rebellion of my 20's and entered the lost era (nihilism) of my 30's.  


What's that you say?


In your twenties nihilism can be a a profound rebellion.  You can discover Nietzsche and Kierkegaard and get lost in all the negative critiques of our modern age.



But your 30's require something more from you.  You are supposed to be able to build from your new found existential freedom "the new man" you read about in the Genealogy of  Morals.  You are supposed to be a positive force for creation.


But what if there is no superman?  What if our time is adrift in the nihilism like so many have posited?  


What do you DO?


Maybe you take three days off from work and get loaded on E.  Not even good E.  And even though it was not "good" E it will be expensive.  You will empty your bank accounts. And you will talk about how if you, "had saved all the money you have been spending on drugs you could have bought a car."  


You will stand around a deserted apartment building quietly mocking the the nice looking couple holding hands with their toddler as he points at the dilapidated swimming pool.


You mock the couple, but later you realize that you share something in common with the little boy and his parents. Like his parents you are tired.  You want to drag the little boy back into his room.  And like the boy you have an urge to see wonder.  To be filled with awe and worship.


And E provides the only religion you have ever known.  The only spark of spirituality you have ever embraced.  The only sense of wonderment you have had since you were a tiny boy yourself. E allows you to be memorized with awe.  And you count yourself lucky to be human again.  To be among the mortals of a lesser age.  To be swept up under the tidal imagination of superstition.  


"Anything must be better than being one of the automatons of today."  You mutter to yourself as the little boy walks past you.  A giant smile is plastered to his face. He looks up at you.  And you give him a knowing wink and smile.  You glance back over at the pool and he shares your glance.  Then his gaze returns to his parents with a hopeful beg.


The scene is interrupted by a girl wearing colorful bracelets.   She holds a package full of glittery colored pills.  And you look up at her like the child of three that you are.