Sometimes there's just too much fucking pain.
I don't mean my own. I don't even necessarily mean physical. Just...in the world, right now, in this moment, there is so much suffering that goes unnoticed. There are so many stories that will go untold. There is so much injustice that will never be granted a voice, or even the righteous indignation in response to its passing.
It's overwhelming.
In my quieter moments, when I sit and try to hold that pain in my mind--even just for a second, even just the barest hint of it--I shut down. It's too overwhelming.
It becomes even more unbearable when I realize that it's juxtaposed with extravagance and luxury to the same level, and that in so many cases, the existence of one is impossible without the other.
I can't imagine a greater purpose than to do everything in my power to alleviate the tiny bit of this that I can, and yet, in my day-to-day, I am far more moved by the slaughter of a goat than I am the daily hurts of most of my coworkers. (So often it's the opposite, that people cannot accept the suffering of an animal as true suffering, as compared to that of their fellow man; I suppose I'm a bit too misanthropic for that these days.)
And it just seems so...impossible. They call it samsara, the endless cycle of suffering, and that's exactly what it is. It is incomprehensibly ironic that a part of this suffering should be the mere awareness of that suffering, and that it will continue.
There's a part of me that wants to run to the mountains, take a vow of silence for a decade or two, and attempt to remove myself, as much is as possible, from all of this--just to give myself a moment of peace, where I can see the totality of my life and its effects because it is just that small. But then, of course, there would be the pain of those I left behind, always pushing that periphery a bit further.
At a certain point, I just say fuck it and go to bed, pushing the guilt aside with the blessed oblivion of sleep.
No comments:
Post a Comment