I give up

blog #10

I’m going to give up. I’m going to stop doing what I was doing. I’m even going to distance myself from where I physically am. I’m going to run away from where I am sitting. I’m going to give up now. I’m going to walk away and not do anything like what I’ve been doing anymore. I’m going to change, or at least stop. I’m going to go away, and that’s it. That’s it. That’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to walk away from you, from him, from her, from all of you. All of you people around me, I just can’t take it anymore. I’m prone to this. It’s in my nature, to walk away. It’s easy to give up, to walk away, and I’m certainly going to do it now.

I started giving up at around age seven. Back then, I didn’t even have to give up myself, someone gave up for me. I didn’t choose to give up, someone chose it for me. My mother. My mother gave up for me. I was forced to give up. I didn’t want to give up, but I did, I was given upped, and I got used to it. I got used to giving up. Later on I started trying, but as you can see, it’s gotten quite too difficult, and I’ve decided to give up, as it has become untenable. Giving up feels good, I feel flat, hollowed out, because in fact, I’ve scooped out what was once trying. An obscene, forward momentum that I’ve now scooped and hollowed out in an action of “giving up.” I’m repeating myself, but I am really just trying to be exact. I’m trying to be well-articulated. I’m trying to describe how, why, and in what precise way I will be giving up shortly.

I’m not going to die. That is not really giving up. Forcing yourself to die is an attempt, it’s a try. I’m not going to do that. I’m simply going to go away from here, give up what I was once doing, and walk away, and be somewhere else. I don’t care if I’ll change, because I’ve given up on changing, on adapting, on any contortion I could have exerted onto my body or the world. I find it obscene, the pleasurable contortions others exert onto their bodies, and their worlds. I find it terribly obscene. Death would be obscene, too. It’s an extra step that I find unnecessary, undesirable, and misunderstood. It’s not really giving up. Giving up involves walking away, throwing your hands up, and quitting doing what you were doing. Your project, your goal, your aim, those are all ended now in the act of giving up. And it feels good. It feels good because you’re not wasting your time anymore on something pointless. It feels better to give up, to articulate how and why you’re going to give up, and then to finally do it.

In the place I’ll be when I give up, it will be nicer. The air will be cooler, and the light will pour in through the windows and no one will know me. I’ll be different, sure, but I will also have given up. It’s no matter that I’ll be different, because there will be no one to see my difference, not even me. Because, and I failed to mention this earlier, I will have also given up on the project of me. The project of me has become tiresome, exhausting, and too many expectations have obscenely attached themselves to me. People have been coming up to me, more and more, expecting things from me, and talking to me, and asking me something, all of which has led to me wanting to give up, walk away, arbitrarily change, and just do that, in the air room with the light pouring in through the windows.

The light pouring in through the windows is giving up. That’s part of why giving up feels good. Because the light pours in through the windows once you have given up. Maybe you’ve misunderstood. Giving up is not negative. It’s positive. It’s good to give up. I think you should give up too, because you’ve been wasting time, month after month, wasting time and money, effort spent on something that will fade away anyway, in death, or in time. For all these reasons, I’ve decided to give up and place my attention elsewhere, somewhere. There, I won’t give up. I won’t be able to give up. Giving up wouldn’t be an option there. If giving up is one of your options, you should certainly choose that option, because it means that your other options are not as good or attractive as giving up, and you’re betting on a losing team. If you gave up, you could walk away, into the room with the air, the light pouring in through the windows, and then you wouldn’t have to give up, because you’ve already given up.