ARE WE SEARCHING FOR THE KIND OF BULLETPROOF EMOTIONAL STATUS THAT ONLY DEAD PEOPLE HAVE?

I know I wrote all that positive self-talk sap quack yesterday, but fuck. The roller coaster slows at the top, and then bombs down down down. Stomach in my throat. Choking on words I silver spoon swallowed yesterday.

I recorded a podcast episode with Zach Farr, the singer-songwriter behind Mani, a psychedelic Himalayan rock salt band. We were grooving good vibes. But if Zach’s a lighthouse, I’m the ocean five miles deep.

Later yesterday afternoon I felt dizzy and closing my eyes didn’t help, nor did curling up in a ball on the bed, nor did sipping water, nor did inhaling peppermint essential oil fumes, so I ate a pumpkin muffin and went for a walk and hoped for the best, but I made the mistake of ear budding up because when I pressed play Joe Rogan said that there’s now AI sophisticated enough to read human thought. This dissolved my vertigo, but soured my headspace. How is one-way telepathy possible? Apparently, attaching fMRI scanners to a human brain in order to detect changes in blood flow means signals from the scanners can be analyzed in real time by an incredibly advanced neural network which is then able to actually visualize and recreate what individuals are seeing. I don’t why this flattened my can of bubbly carbonated water, but it did.

In a few months I’m moving back to Minnesota and I’m terrified not of the crocheted blanket of extended family that awaits or the brutally cold winters, but I’m pale face scared that I won’t be able to cultivate the kind of life I want to live. I mean find a job. Or more likely, create one. Be the change you wish to see in the world gets more difficult and toothy when you mean be the job you wish to work in the world.

I’m projecting negativity. This decreases social media likes. Don’t do this, Ryan. The goal is to loveeachother dammit. And each time you complain, each time you press your pink finger into the thorn tip, readers cringe. Watch it. Watch status drop. Like a stone in the ocean. Down, down, down.

I am never good enough. I never succeed as much as other people. I am a failure.

I’m judging my emotional ocean bottom as bad, which is reinforces patterns of repressing “negative” feelings. Why exactly, though, am I shaming myself? Aren’t these emotions normal and even evolutionarily valuable? In Susan David’s TED Talk “Why It’s Good to Embrace Negative Feelings,” she says that the desire to be free from pain and frustration and sadness and disappointment is a dead person’s goals. “Only dead people never get unwanted or inconvenienced by their feelings. Only dead people never get stressed…..Discomfort is the price of admission to a meaningful life.”

Part of me feels at home in the dark. I prefer winter. I prefer night. I prefer overcast gloom.

There’s also a loud destructive impulse in me. That’s why five years ago, when I was drinking a liter of whiskey every day, I smoked hookah every night. Both hoses in my mouth. Blurred the line between pleasure and pain.

I want to hear what else Susan David has to say, but I can guess it’s really all yin-yang continuum. It’s what every Six Flags rollercoaster stands for—up up up down down up down down up up down down down.

 

>>>WEDNESDAY NOTE: First need to tip my $6.95 flat brimmed hat to Billy Martino for the TED Talk hookup. Second the yoga wheel is almost here, so if you’re in Milledgeville come over. Third, The Alt Dad Diary is a Tesla-style car fueled on positive energy. That’s what I wrote yesterday. ERRRP. False. I’m a plow pulled by two horses—one named pleasure and one named pain. If you enjoy and would like to support this work, por favor stop using plastic bags at Kroger and also check out patreon.com/altdaddiary to become a supporter. Even a $1 per month contribution is WHATTT HORSEHUGE. Peace brothers and sisters until tomorrow.

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