Degeneracy

“Degeneracy can be fun but it’s hard to keep up as a serious lifetime occupation.” -Robert M. Pirsig

My life peaked at the age of 13 and has been going downhill since. As a keen and rather intelligent primate, I discovered the magic of sex way too young, and its ironic that 14 years later, I am permanently deprived of that one wonder my body can legitimately provide with the assistance of just one person and not a million, which is the normal state of our lives. What do I know that some one else before me didnt? Do I even want to know?

Discovery, accidental or otherwise, is healthy. I remember finding out its quite possible to jump from a 12 foot ledge and not break my legs. I discovered I could hit any cricket ball that came to me as long as I didnt get scared. I discovered women, I discovered cigarettes, alcohol, rock, metal and blues, I discovered I didnt have to write what people like, I discovered I didnt have to be what people like. Well, maybe , just maybe, there are a few people who wont push me to a barber’s, there may even be a girl who likes hair, facial and otherwise.

In spite of all my pesudo-grunge existence, I sometimes tend to be quite normal. I still blush when a girl catches me staring at her celestial wonders. I am still confused if they could be called phobos and demos, two fiery moons, or a pair of mangoes, or just plain mammary glands, simple functional organs that probably werent erotic till women decided to hide them. So much of our existence, even our sensuality ,is a product of mass conditioning.

Every week, between monday and friday, I am a robot. I solve problems mechanically, I handle clients mechanically, I code mechanically, and I come home, watch japanese models nude, wank off to them with Tool telling me that 46 and 2 are still ahead of me, and go to sleep,mechanically. It has nothing to do with my degree.

Every weekend, I eat, drink and think alcohol.

An odd wine through the week is also not rare. I still remember the days when me and most of my friends were so pathetically drunk we had to really ask ourselves how people turned alcoholics. We never noticed we were alcoholics.

Which brings us back to the subject of ,yes, —degeneracy!

Before I had picked up Zen, all I knew about degeneracy was in terms of atoms. Then, with the precision of a heart surgeon, I hand picked the parts of other people’s lives, their books, their dreams, their sorrows, their women, and within a few years, I didnt recognize myself. In my mind, I was Superman, I was Super Command Dhruv, I was James Bond, I was Elseworth M. Toohey, I was even Jon Bon Jovi in Destination Anywhere, and I stood there staring at Demi Moore’s window. I never fancied myself to be a Roark back then, I was tiny and I couldnt draw. I jerked off to Dominique Francon and Dagny Taggart, who in my mind always looked like the girl I fancied back then, white as snow with long hair and a condescending smile. Being a remarkably ugly child, I saw most women as Goddesses, someone I could aspire for and never be with. As I grew up, I was with a lot many of these women, and perhaps out of my deep insecurities, the count of which I have totally lost, I scoffed them off, if they didnt throw me away before that. The closest I came to being truly in a relationship was a very heartbreaking experience, and somewhat knee and back breaking as well.

At 13, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my life. I proclaimed it with much aplomb with a Denins the Menace poster- “My target-Doing nothing” which was taken in great spirit by my providers. I was lectured on how this is the time I should start working hard, etc etc. In the end, the poster stayed on the wall , my one true ambition, just to exist, just to be, just to be happy, it had to fade away and be replaced by an obscene competitive streak, which to this day haunts me. I am a composition of so many different people, I myself dont know how I would react to a given situation.

I believe all of us have severe multiple personality disorder. If you dont believe me, try this:Call your best friend at work, then call her at a party.

My one true ambition, the target of doing nothing, never really left, though. I tried my best to be the worst at everything I ever did, yet there were people far more task oriented than me and they set me up for failure even in my attempts to be a miserable failure. I just went on, always in a haze, always muddled in confusion. In third year of college, I decided to drop out, and promptly informed my providers. They agreed, since I wasnt doing well, maybe I should drop out and revive the family farms. A strong kid like me could definitely make something grow on those barren lands.

The decision was therefore soon reverted, and I applied myself  to alcohol, cigarettes and greenery. Years have been passing by, and I have been medicated, mostly on prescription drugs, and its been about two months that finally, I can tell my doctor I had  a drink and he wont kill me for that. Could it be its all those anti-dep that really fucked my head? Rationalization, thy name is Monkey.

There’s a school of thought in the department of primate psychology in the Univerity of Ximians which suggests that all of us are addicts of some kind and we all have very low self esteem. Some talk too much, some lie too much, some are just addicted to proving they arent addicts and we really take what other people think of us way too seriously. The highly acclaimed research wasnt published in any major journal, however, for it would destroy the world as we know it. Take away addictions and give every one some self esteem, and Apple would be selling a Jack a nano version of The Giant Peach in a fruit mart.

Presently, I realise I havent left the path of degeneracy I once adopted out of a necessity to escape reality and the people whose life I live. Time is running out, and everything seems to stagnate, each day is the same and I still feel like SCD and Superman, and Maynard James Keenan and Roger Waters and George Orwell and Madonna.

Its been a while since I felt like myself, though.

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