” I believe that in an approximate near future, we – may – all have nothing else to think about. I’d like to think that my concerns are only a projection of my own fears, but with time, these concerns are revealing themselves to be somewhat legitimate” my friend wrote in an email, a list of websites followed. Websites that specified what one should stock up on in preparation for surviving the impending global disaster.
“I personally go for really enjoying my life now, and being ready to really enjoy my life after a disaster. After all, no matter what happens, we can always be present with it, right?” I responded.
“Wrong” said my friend.
“life is very hard when we populate the world with monsters” I answered.
“We are in a near future ALL going to become monsters because there will be no food, money or water. And even from your little dungeon over-looking the ocean, doing your little Art work, living with your little insecure husband and having constructive relationships with your clients and being so ever present, you will become a monster like everybody else. And all your illusions will vanish and all your progressions will fade and your sense of God-ship will invert. Because we’re all going to be FUCKED…” and off it went for quite a few paragraphs. A spirited argument in defense of the doom, the breakdown, the catastrophe. The pain, degradation and fear. “Why would he think my husband is insecure?” i wondered. He is one of the most confident men I’ve met or heard of so far…
“Well, you say we will all be fucked, I say I will be ok. I will not speak for the entire world, I will speak for myself: I will be okay, because that is my choice.” I stated calmly and reasonably, I thought.
“I am sorry Pausha, I downloaded. I am just tired of borrowed language.” he wrote back, “I had just came back from the welfare office where I applied. Time at which I wrote my emails. I can’t seem to get a hold on life.”
“Ah” I though “it is not the world coming to an end then. It is your world.”
