I am open to the idea that... y'know... how can I phrase this...
People with anxiety disorders and panic disorders and many of the depressions, we're right, actually. The whole world is actually this fucked, things actually make this little sense and everything good still floating about is actually the fluke it seems like.
That the mechanism around us, society, culture, technology, it has outstripped out ability to adapt to it and... early in the Industrial Revolution, only the very smartest people and the people with the most spare time were able to experience it and start to go crazy but...
The faster and bigger and more inescapable the machine becomes and the less and less substancial ghosts that we humans are within it, the more this madness trickles down.
We only need to have a little free time or kinda smart at this point to see it and be driven crazy by it.
But as wrong as it is and as nice as it would be to get ourselves into situations where we are not driven mad by this... feeling... this knowledge that everything is broken...
There's no escaping now, y'know.
There's nowhere to run from it, there's nowhere to hide from it.
Wherever there is another living soul, there are echoes of that great insanity machine some people have called Western Civilization.
There's no going back, there's not even any slowing it down... so we have the choice of using more and more complex drugs to insulate ourselves from this truth, with occasional side-effects, or... otherwise give in to death or a madness worse than dying.
We could've been shamans, y'know, in a world that hadn't rendered shamans obsolete. Or poets if the world didn't have a whole history of better poetry already finished and accessable in fifteen clicks of a button. Or philosophers, priests and priestesses, leaders and dreamweavers...
But the world doesn't need them anymore.
The machine of societal structure and all the machines in our hands and in front of our eyes can basically go on without us... or without critical thinking from humans, anyway, just keep fuck*ng to supply the people, just keep making energy to run all the engines...
We just kind of have to Be Here.
And that drives us all mad, more and more of us the more and more of us are rendered obsolete for anything other than simple attendance.
Still, we're hardwired to desire life and living over madness and death and so here we are.
Popping just enough pills to keep ourselves interested.
It sounds kinda awful but I am hardwired to consider the alternatives worse so what the hell can I do? This is the programming I started with, I had no choice in the matter.
Drugs it is.
Drugs until the machine breaks down or until we as humans die off and allow it to churn for itself without our bare attendance.
No, wait, don't read this at all.
It, uhm, definitely won't help the depression.