An utter lack of necessity

I’m staying in a monastery at the moment. I haven’t donned the robes or anything, I’m just using it to get out of the city for a bit, be on my own, straighten thoughts out, that kind of thing.

Well, and then there is that book, of course. I’m supposed to be writing a book, or rather, I’m supposed to begin writing a book. Problem is, I just can’t seem to care about writing it. In an act of desperation I’ve decided that the book is to be about necessity. About the necessity of life, keeping it up, getting it on, expressing it.

Sadly, my strategy hasn’t proven very effective. I can’t for the world of me think of anything worth writing about. I just don’t know the word ”necessity” anymore. Not since I started working in the IT business, and my bank account gets recharged once a month. What’s that for necessity?

At one point I thought I might be suffering from a depression, but I’ve decided against it. I mean, everybody around here is suffering from a depression, the only question is whether you admit to it or not. And I positively don’t. That would be going too far with the flow, if you get my drift. If people took some vitamins with their meals instead of all those funnier-than-fun pills, hell, we might start seeing things for that they really are.

I’m sure there’s necessity out there somewhere, I just can’t seem to grasp it anymore. I’ve travelled the world, I’ve written thousands of pages, I’ve met a million different people, and I ain’t even thirty! Sounds like a sure recipe for success and happiness, don’t you think? Well, this isn’t Afghanistan, this is Denmark. We’re so privileged we can’t even look at the world outside without feeling pity and shame. The first amounts to arrogance, the second to resignation and self-suppression.

At the end of the day, all I want to tell you is that I ain’t exactly proud of the way the planet is revolving these days. If I had a gun I wouldn’t even know which direction to shoot it. Well, I’d probably contact the Faculty of Theoretical Physics, ask them to point out a worm-hole extending back to the beginning of time, and fire away at whoever started this whole mess. Most likely, however, I would stagger forward and slump to the ground with a bullet in my back.