I think anyone who has ever transitioned from one point of life to another or been in a place of uncertainty has felt what I’m feeling. Where you are excited to do something new with your life, and you know it’s coming soon. But you don’t know what it’s going to be or how it will happen or what really is coming next.
You don’t know where you’ll go, how you’ll get there, or who you’ll meet once you finally do. Nothing, really. And you look back to just yesterday how you had at least something figured out; but you realize yesterday was not yesterday, it was six months ago. You lament over the past being gone, but you know you would much rather be here than there; you know everything wasn’t perfect back then, either.
You feel kind of empty, like you are worthless, because none of your talents are being used at the moment; they might never be. Or, you’ll start a job you hate not knowing what to do about it, then live the rest of your life in misery: getting stuck in a routine you always looked down on, living like the people you never understood.
You’re just in a void. People are living life around you, seemingly happy and fulfilled, meanwhile you sit here and wonder what could possibly happen to get you out of this mood; you just don’t know.
Me? I like to eat away the confusion. I like to eat anyway, but stress really brings it out of me. At the moment, I’m feeling so empty as a being, that for some reason food provides a temporary comfort. But, what happens when that comfort ends? You reach for more, again and again until you start to feel it.
You feel so full, or uncomfortable, or whatever the food you ate that time decided to do to you, and that makes you feel terrible. Your body is not happy with you, your stomach is turning, but you knew what would happen; this isn’t the first time.
But, while you are feeling terrible, you feel better; you don’t feel empty anymore. You’ve given up one bad feeling for another, and you know what, you can live with this one. It’s less terrible. It’s your vice.
People tell you to give up your vice.
But you can’t stop. And you won’t stop. Because you know what will happen if you do. Sometimes, just sometimes, indulging in your vice stops you from going crazy; from doing something far worse in the name of temporary insanity. So you don’t listen, and you don’t stop. You keep doing what you’re doing, because you’re still here, still breathing, still going. Still hoping in something. And if indulging yourself in your vice here and there keeps you from going crazy, then by all means, do it.
A life with no vices is the life of a madman.