it’s a truly wondrous feeling, to be mortified past the point of mortification, and rather driven into a state of amused delirium.
one finds oneself asking “really? jokes aside… this is actually happening?” an internally rhetorical question of disbelief, and also one directed at the heavens. the puppet masters of the universe. the devil and his buddy god, or that giant turtle whose back we rest on. karma rears its hideous head in times of stress and despair. cackling. wait, wait–wouldn’t it be hilarious if she ALSO had to… no… no, that’s just too much right? even afterwards? HAH! priceless. let’s do this!
such a colorful emotional beating can be enlightening, if taken with the positive attitude we’ve all been taught to maintain. self-efficacy, thumbs-ups, big smiles all around. i step outside my body (thank goodness, what a terrible terrible mess, how on earth will this wash out!) and observe passively, serenely. here’s a person smart enough to tell when shit’s going wrong. to know when their value is being pissed away. locked in a miserable stall with the familiar smell of vomit, multipurpose disinfectant, and sheepishly faulty sewage pipes.
enter karma in its grand appearance, and suddenly it’s too difficult to observe. i don’t want to anymore; i cannot. so i opt for the simplest sedation and tune out until something better comes on. i handled things on autopilot. i wanted to be elsewhere. i can look back later, feel the shame, spit on myself, resolve to leave, make promises; later.
for now, i laugh. i tell the story to close friends who will laugh with me. it is cheap medication, it is avoidance, and it is an incredible relief. the philosophy is, how could it possibly get any worse?
i have an inkling that, sometime in the near future, it just might.
