Rollercoast Allusions are Twat

Or…

Highs, Lows and the Search for Content

The person I am now, the one who’s been forming over all of these years, has always assumed that to be content is to have given up. Once you’ve attained the lifestyle where you are no longer longing for the hope over the next horizon, you’re inevitably one foot in the grave, as they may or may not say. And content in this way is not necessarily happily content. The pissed off lady behind the counter at the Shell Station, who always runs the counterfeit marker over my 20 dollar bills (and does it with malice) has allowed herself to become content. She’s satisfied her need to keep struggling for more and it has returned the favor by killing her long before her body made it to the part where you fall down and stick out your tongue.

I have therefore lived my life in constant pursuit of the unnattainable. Because it is only the unattainable that can really keep you going; if you set your goals anywhere near the achievability mark then you just might actually get where you’re going, and that, my friends, will only lead to content (see first paragraph for what content implies.)

I am very close to getting off of this ride. I am nearly at the point where I might set my goals just a wee bit lower and try and live in the current and now. This is, to me, as suicide looks to most people who’ve never considered it. The easy way out.

I’m ready for a little easy.

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