I am suffering so extremely and I hate it. I’m caught between relations, pressed by the will to survive and the will to pleasure – or to escape pain. It’s so unfair. The suffering has no meaning in itself. It’s not this enemy that I can draw in sight and attack with all my energies. It’s this morphism of failed functions of duty and responsiveness, bad luck and nature. My suffering is mapped by connectives as trails marked by heavy traffic. I’ve been traveling these roads to dependent events. I just had faith that fundamentally people have an unrestricted reserve of good-nature, and that tapping that reserve just requires the right preparation, the right questions. But pulling all E’s out of a scrabble bag is a finite exercise. The other characters produced the resources for my project, distracting me from organizing my collection of letters. My father would surprise me with kindness and I would return home feeling hopeful. The next turn he would have some reliable excuse. I’m not a supporter of behaviorism, but my fathers good behaviors were never consistent, and never full (when he was kind it was always shallow, when he promised he never followed through), and his bad behaviors were always predictable and consistent. But my well-being, my survival depends on the beneficence of my family. The most difficult thing I’ve ever done is admit to myself that my fathers behaviors, (and my family and my society in general)show his state of mind. That he isn’t the beneficent person I need him to be. That they aren’t persuaded by obligation to do their duty, or motivated by compassion to act beyond self-interest. And this wasn’t until very recently that I realized I had pulled the final E.
I don’t know what to do. I’m just so alone, so lost, so broken. I am those things but I am also strong, reserved, wise. We are all broken. We can see what we need to be, but rarely can we transform into it. My doctors have failed me. My family has failed me. They are obligated to certain actions by their entitlement to certain rights. But they are blind to the causes that give them the resources they have to survive and to live well. Their garbage disposal depends on garbage men, their infrastructure, on road-workers, engineers, politicians and economists. Their health-care on philosophers, administrators, mathematicians, pharmacists, doctors and businessmen. Their market is maintained by self-interest alone. Most of those people aren’t acting according to their duty in this sense. Most of us have never engineered transactions, just utilized the structure. Like economics, an invisible hand guides duty. That hand is self-interest. When you’re unlucky, as I am, and your freedom to choose is taken from you by physical disability or illness, then all you have is the beneficence of others. And I don’t have good people in my life. They see me broken and judge me for it. As they should partly. I too have a duty. But the tragic irony is that they see me failing in my duty to provide for myself, and contribute to society, without recognizing their role in that, causa sui.
I don’t know, man. I’m just so fucking fucked.