I’m sitting at my desk looking around for something to write about. You see, I need to write. This is something that I want to do, and I’ve got to practice at it before I’m going to be any good. I have a very rough understanding of the written word, and I have an even worse understanding of how to hold an audience. Yet, I shall persevere.
I looked around my desk for about 10 minutes, tapping on my keyboard hard enough that a sound would be made, but not so hard that anything else would be. I recently got a new computer, and I cleaned my desk off a pretty good bit, so there’s not much material to be found. The one thing that’s been a constant on my desk for several years now is this Fight Club coffee mug that I’m drinking tea out of. It’s got the requisite soap logo on the front, with the rules of Fight Club taking up the back. Or possibly the other way around, if you suddenly find yourself left-handed.
For a very long time, Fight Club was my favorite movie. The rejection of social norms, the rampant nihilism… the movie spoke to teenaged-yet-20-something me like nothing before had. The moral of the story is that, in general, nothing matters. It’s a film that believes that life as most people live it is futile at best, and it spends the better part of its running time proselytizing. I believed what it was selling, and I swallowed every sound bite as though it were nectar straight from a deity that just did not give a shit. I bought into it hard.
I am Jack’s desire to believe in something.
A week or two ago, I was doing my usual coffee and/or tea drinking when I realized that this mug isn’t really mine anymore. The person that I was when I bought that mug, the person that watched Fight Club 83 times… that person is long gone. He’s been gone. It’s not that I gave up on hitting bottom or decided that dammit, I actually am my fucking khakis, or anything like that; it’s that I simply grew up. Having a beautiful baby boy that makes this entire shitty world disappear with a single giggle can do that, I suppose. I realized that nihilism, in its purest form, is complete bullshit. Everything means something. Don’t take any of it for granted, and don’t dare waste a fucking second.
It’s only after we’ve lost everything we used to be that we’re free to become anything we want.