Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Another great book: A Long Way Down by Nick Hornby. It's about four people who randomly meet eachother on a roof from which they had all planned to jump, and instead of killing themselves that night they decide to give life six weeks. They're eachothers complete opposites but they start hanging out and hilarity ensues. It's really funny and thought provoking and surprisingly insightful. And it's not the slightest bit sappy or nostalgic, it doesn't try to teach you any fundamental lessons about life, and best of all, there's no stupid tragic or equally stupid happy ending.
There's a guy in the book called Jerry Lee Pavement who reminds me a lot of my former best friend. He's a street musician who finds other street musicians, wait til they start playing and then intentionally plays the same song at a different pace, making the result sound absolutely awful. And people love him, he gets all the money from the passerbys cause they think it's funny. The musician who was there first, in turn gets ridiculed and booed at when he punches Jerry Lee Pavement in the face. The guy is a fucking cunt but you can't help but admire his hyena-like abilities and complete lack of respect. Which is my former best friend in a nutshell.

A couple of things from the book I found to be really spot on, and some deductions or revelations regarding my own situation that I found after reading it:

You know life sucks when you can't tell someone the most basic things about yourself and your life without it sounding like you want people to pity you. That's what causes this distance, it's impossible to think of anything to say that doesn't make people feel awkward and down.

People never tell anyone what they really want, because we know we can't have it and it always sounds so banal and childish. Or we want to pretend everything is okay and it doesn't feel particularly nice to admit that it's not. Human life is based on lies. And people need their lies and their stories to bring themselves to stay alive. There are many other ways to die than to kill yourself. You can let parts of yourself die one after another and you hardly even notice it until theres nothing left anymore.

Everyone I cared about, except my family, have moved on without me. They have new lives. To them I might as well have never existed. Their past is in the past while mine is still everywhere around me. And wanting them to come back is like asking them to move out of a really nice apartment with people they like to come live in a shitty shed by the highway with me where people randomly drop by to shit on you.

I don't want to die because I hate life. I want to die because I love life. I think most people who kill themselves think the same way. They love life but life has gone down the drain and turned to shit and you can't find your way back. And being shut out like that, it devastates you. And it's when you realize that you don't hate life that the real pain starts. Cause where do you go from there? Where do you start? How do you learn to like yourself enough
to want to live with yourself? Selfrespect is a currency. You save up for years and it can all be gone in one night.

And finally and most importantly: people can say whatever the fuck they want and complicate things as much as they want, but the truth is, the only thing that can cure misery is happiness. 

3 comments:

Join the Dork side said...

Or porn.

Join the Dork side said...

Especially porn.

StigmataHandjob said...

That's so obvious I didn't think I should have to mention it.