The other day I read a manifesto about modern-day hedonism. I never realised there was so much to write about it and I’ve never been a fan of all these over-romanticised views on life either. The manifesto or however they called it basically said things like “If getting back into the real world on a Monday morning is hard for you, then this is a clear sign that your real world sucks and that you should change something. You obviously prefer your weekend to your week. Why shouldn’t your week be as great as your weekend?” I know this is all very corny and cheesy and you could as well add a few #YOLO hashtags to it BUT the whole getting back into the real world stuff kinda got me. I do feel like this. A lot. If you’ve spent all your weekend in a “different world” with different rules and where most of the things that bother you during the week simply don’t matter, it’s weird to be back in your office, dealing with real-life problems and normal things that you successfully managed to forget for about three nights and two days.
Ok, I admit, this sounds pretty cheesy, too. It sounds like I don’t wanna grow up which I’m pretty sure I do or have already done a little, for that matter. I was so glad when I was finally on my own, in my own four walls, with my own life and even my very own fucking bills. It was what I’d wanted ever since I can remember. Yet, after a few years of adulthood I guess we do realise it’s not all that great and do all kinds of things to become children again, if only for a few hours. I’m convinced drinking for instance is one of them. It makes you stupid and irresponsible and that’s the point, you go to parties with glitter and bouncy castles and refuse to go to bed at night, you fuck yourself up so much that you’re finally back to where you were as a three-year-old.
Recently, I have been thinking a lot about different concepts of life. I know people who are responsible, productive and ambitious. I envy them because they get shit done and more importantly, know what shit they want to get done. I also know people who live for the day and have created a life for themselves where they only do what they enjoy, even if it doesn’t mean actively contributing to anything or doing something particularly productive. I envy them too because they have something they enjoy and decided to just do it. I keep thinking, if I had something I would rather do than this, I would go out and do it, for sure.
“Is there anything more important than having fun? Why are there so many rules that dictate us how to do it? If you don’t obey, you’re one of ‘those people’, those who do things that normal people don’t do.” Really? Do we really feel good when we do what we call “having fun”? Going to the same places over and over again, with the same people, the same music, the same routines? Isn’t that just as bad as what we are trying to escape? I’m sick of hearing kids wallow in self-pity while trying to impress everyone else with their level of self-destruction, something they’ve been practising for years. “Go hard or go home”. A smug “Don’t become like me, darling” and yet I know, right now you feel superior because you have been up for five days and because your body can take more than mine, because you don’t eat and because you won’t give up. You say you live dangerously but in fact you secretly have a wank over how glamorous your life is. Please, go fuck yourself with a cactus, I’m out of here.
I want to find out what really matters. One day I will only spend my days doing something I truly enjoy. I will find out what it feels like to enjoy something, to feel good about what I’m doing, to have a reason to get up in the morning except for my conscience telling me I’d be screwed if I don’t. I want to spend time with people who mean something to me and I want everything else to just be an addition, not a distraction. And until then, I will just continue doing what I’m doing because quite frankly, it could be a lot worse.