Why Won't The World End Already?

The title to this post was a thought I had as I lied in bed (which is a couch) between waking and sleeping around 6:00 this morning. When this thought came to me, I was actually relieved. You see, for the past two weeks, I had been feeling good about things. I was writing, I was working, I had prospects for the future. Unfortunately, a side effect of the peculiar series of events that suggested the possibility of future success for yours truly was the onset of chronic boringness.

Over the last two weeks, I have been unable to have an interesting original thought, so much of my energy was devoted to writing the Adult Swim article (which I'm told will go up today) or working for The Lookout or watching massive amounts of Star Trek: Enterprise. The problem was that I was feeling good. That is to say, I was feeling confident and sure of myself.

When, at the end of the day, I feel satisfied with what I've done, who I am and where I am going, I don't have demented, twisted thoughts that I can weave into creative ideas. Nor do I have a desire to write funny things for your approval. And, at the end of the day, I feel bland and boring.

So, when I awoke this morning with a dark thought in mind, you can imagine my joy. Turns out that I hadn't been lobotomized by two weeks of work that I enjoyed doing. My bombastic apocalyptic Weltanschauung  seems to have returned, even though objectively nothing has changed from last week. I may get to write more for Adult Swim; my work for The Lookout is constantly being praised by my editor and the owner; I am starting to get momentum on prospects for my future as an adult male in a city that has always intimidated me since I was a wee lad. Take that, L.A., you damned sepulcher, full of false hope and sunken dreams!

Things are looking up!

But, I'm still looking down, because my inspiration comes from that dark, yawning chasm beneath us that is silently and patiently waiting to swallow us up while we go about our merry lives. Thank God! Because how annoying would it be if I just told you all about how great everything was all the time? I'm getting nauseous just thinking about that other universe in which I'm happily married and updating Facebook all the time to let you guys know just how much my wife and I love each other.

Every year, I'd send you a Christmas card with a perfect picture of my gorgeous wife, two unrealistically cute kids, smiling vacantly like happiness zombies and our movie-star pedigree golden retriever we rescued from the pound last year, all to remind you that I'm happier than the rest of you sad sacks!

I like this version of me much better, when my subconscious instinct in the morning before I'm fully awake is to beg for a distant, inscrutable and merciless God to show some kindness by ending this tortured and bitter world.

On that note, I'm going to drink coffee until I'm dizzy and sweating feverishly while I refresh the Adult Swim website every 10 minutes.

Melike sent me this picture this morning. I prefer to annoy people by
predicting horrible outcomes and being right.

Have a great weekend!