it’s funny how we all have different ways of coping. some people are self-destructive, while others are creative. yet, we all argue that we’re trying to do the same thing. that we’re trying to cope. it makes me wonder, what’s so fundamentally different about the one who sinks into himself; the one who sinks into pints of alcohol while the problems remain floating on the surface. the one who will sink to the bottom of the bottle of vodka and empty it’s contents, but find themselves trapped within; the one who will spend night after night in the company of pretentious strangers, in bars that encourage pretentiousness with their ‘exclusivity’, with their pretentious wine lists and their pretentious ‘modern’ decor? those who choose to wait for time to take away their miseries, yet they do nothing to help time do it’s job.
and then there are those who are filled with enough rage to start a new genocide, but are almost psychopathically calm and channel their rage into colours on canvases; or those ones who get lost in notes of music to create beautiful melodies told by invisible trauma; and those who rise from the depths of depressive poverty and create empires that shoot into the sky. those who don’t wait for time to show up to take away their sorrow, but box up their sorry and post it to time via next day delivery.
i can’t imagine what makes the two so different – what makes one cope, create and grow, while another ‘copes’ and self-destructs. perhaps it’s another one of the universe’s twisted jokes on man-kind. or some kind of puppet show for deities to entertain themselves. or maybe it’s a result of the choices we all choose to make. while others chose to be creators in their misery, and consequently become the creators of their release and their joy, others choose to self-destruct and generate enough heat for them to finally obliterate themselves into nothingness.
we all have a choice, and i choose to be a creator. what do you choose to be?