My mind turns again to the attitude of refusal, to two people who say no to life consistently. First, I worry about Constanza. What I told her in last night’s conversation is worth repeating here: that the more time you spend sleeping indoors, the more you miss out on the present moment, the more you will be living out a dream life, a fantasy life, out of your imagination, an imagination that can never fulfill or sustain you. The key to destroying one’s depression is to dive head first. One has to devote their energies to living. Only forward movement and consistency become change.
Constanza and I, we have the same problem. We never get out of our own heads. After moments of joy or contentment, all the sad thoughts, the obsessions, the doubts, return to beat on us repetitively like the beating of a drum. When I need to escape, I like to have a cigarette by the flowers. I sit in the part of town where red dust rises from the cinderblocks. It has been especially hot this month, but I know that I must sit here, I must bear this pain and thinking out. At home, anxiety is my inner candle. The wax burns faster when I sit outside.
Jake hates poetry. I had shown him Robinson Jeffer’s poem Hurt Hawks. “All poets do is sit around and complain.” Quite like him. He reasons like an adult, but physically, he is still a child. Today he said that he would kill a million humans to save one animal. He would even kill his own mother. He wants to save all the animals by eradicating the human race, believing that he can effect change through violence. To this I reply: we must do what we can, when we can, peacefully. We did not agree with Jake’s viewpoints. He threw a tantrum and stormed off. His final comments on the worthlessness of humanity lingered in the air. “Humans are stupid, worthless, ugly. They are a speck of dust. We are insignificant in this whole universe.” Upon reflection, we realized that Jake himself was the animal. The intrinsic worthlessness he would like to juxtapose onto humanity is really a reflection of his own. What he thinks and perceives is his own lack of value. The most frightening part of the encounter was that he sounded like a dictator. Thankfully, he wants to live outside of society. He wants to retreat from it. We tried to throw out helpful suggestions in order to give him some direction. Wildlife preservation was one possibility. I still believe in Jake, and hope the best for him. Transformation is always arrived at through passion. Maybe, when he makes the journey, he will finally be at peace on the jagged ice, on the fretted and abraided pinnacles of some mountain. Maybe the attitude can change when you’re living out the dream.