Negative Capability

I am being crushed. I am using passive voice to convey how this is being done to me, to help convey how I am not responsible, how I am not complicit in the crushing.

I am being crushed by a red high top sneaker that’s been hovering overhead my whole life, periodically stepping down slowly, then slowly rising up again to hover more.

I’ve tried to kill myself. This is true.

I made a pact never to try again. This is true.

Sometimes I still think about it. This is true.

The better you are, the more people expect and the less they appreciate. This is true.

Ask any straight-A student with friends who get money for managing a B.

I am not loved by anyone. This is true.

I am apparently unloveable. Possibly true.

I am a good writer. This is true.

I write things that aren’t any good sometimes. This is true.

I post those things on my blog. Very true.

I think I can’t possibly read all of these papers in time for conferences, but know somehow it will get done. I hope that’s true.

I think some day I’ll implode or maybe shoot off towards the sun. True in a metaphoric way, meaning that I do think that sometimes, but don’t really believe it will happen.

I left my lover and all he said was, “I understand.” True

I’ll watch stupid episodes of Sponge Bob Square Pants tonight while I should be grading papers. I’ll stay up too late and be exhausted tomorrow. I’d need a crystal ball to know for sure, but I predict a 98% chance of exactly that happening. Maybe I’ll watch Invader Zim instead.

I owe a piece of creative nonfiction in workshop a week from tomorrow. Fuck, fuck, fuck, true!

I don’t have anything remotely ready. True.

I cannot balance my life. True.

My friends are rarely my friends. Seems true right now.

My enemies are more constant. True.

That’s a certain form of kindness.

My lover was my best friend. Can I really categorize true and false statements like this?

Now I have none. That’s a lie. I have a best friend in Minneapolis who I haven’t spoken to in months because I’m a self absorbed asshole.

If I had any visual skills, and I don’t, I’d paintshop a picture of Walter hanging himself. This is true.

It’d be a symbol only I understood. This is also true.

Other people would misinterpret its meaning. This is very true.

I already killed january girl, why can’t I kill Walter?

I told my best friend I hated him. That was a lie.

Sometimes things are complex, and it’s easier to tell a lie.

Hate is easier to grasp than disappointment.

He probably thinks I’m mad.

So he can’t fault me, because to him, every emotion was “mad.” This is utterly and completely true.

There are many strengths in the differences between us. Painfully true.

He never saw any of them. :emo:

I’ve let myself be a tool again. True.

It probably won’t be the last time. True, true, true.

I am good enough for someone, good enough for you. Thank you Kristen Hirsch, true, but irrelevant to the reality of the situation.

I am making this more important than it needs to be. True

Because it is a symbol. True

A symbol of a paradigm. Too vague and unintelligible to be true or false.

I have never met anyone worthwhile who also thought much of me. True.

This appears to be a problem. True.

It also appears to be a pattern. Duh.

I lost the passive voice somewhere. True

Does that mean I am accepting responsibility? Maybe

Is there something here to be responsible for? I dunno

Was there a point I wanted to make? Most likely

Did that point trail off somewhere in a fit of self-indulgence? Seems like it…

Am I contemplating suicide? No

Contemplation implies involvement.

Oh

Is it a passive thought? Not really

Then why did you bring it up?

I dunno, to have a call back and it was the first thing that came to mind.

That’s pretty stupid.

Yeah.