WARNING: Anxieties<\/p>\n
I don\u2019t know why I write anymore. I don\u2019t know why, if I can\u2019t save the world by doing it; I don\u2019t want to save the world. I don\u2019t want to be Greta Thunberg, bless the work she does, but I was taking a career quiz, and it recommended humanitarian. And all I could think was: this is just because I care about people. They never tell you, but caring about people is the worst thing you can enter a line of work for. You don\u2019t want to die emotionally because someone died physically, you can\u2019t do that to your health. You should never enter a line of work because you care. You\u2019ll just end up wishing you were dead.<\/p>\n
But that made me think, am I just too picky? Am I supposed to save the world, or am I supposed to just do my part by recycling? That\u2019s another thing they don\u2019t tell you: recycling is a myth. Big Plastic emphasized the wrong part of the cycle on purpose because it disturbed the market the least. They won\u2019t tell you to reduce, to reuse, but recycle\u2026 They can market that.<\/p>\n
They don\u2019t tell you how necessary it is to market. Recycling is just another mass marketing, and I wonder if I didn\u2019t grow up in 2006-Now would I care about half of this? Would I be happier? Am I looking at a generation who\u2019s given up because everyone told them \u201cYou\u2019re supposed to save the world\u201d and when they tried nobody\u2026cared? Give me my money back, I didn\u2019t vote for him, I didn\u2019t ask for this, I didn\u2019t ask for that<\/p>\n
That\u2019s it. I\u2019m ungrateful. I wanted to be a screenwriter. A screenwriter.<\/p>\n
Not everyone wants to be one of those guys, but I did. I\u2019d love to be a screenwriter, if I\u2019m honest. But I can\u2019t say with certainty it\u2019s even a career in the future. It\u2019s no more valuable than a McDonald\u2019s or an Arby\u2019s and those jobs are fine, <\/i>but you can\u2019t live off of them, and I would like to live<\/i>. It\u2019s depressing to look at an industry I would love, a ten-year plan that I could easily visualize\u2026if it was feasible. But I don\u2019t want to be a doordasher, and I guess I don\u2019t want to be a screenwriter.<\/p>\n
And eventually you just start thinking, does it matter? The world\u2019s burning, and here I am. Wishing I could be a screenwriter? I\u2019m supposed to be Greta Thunberg, you\u2019re supposed to be Greta Thunberg, we\u2019re all supposed to be Greta Thunberg, and aren\u2019t you tired of looking out that window? Waiting for something to change? But every change that happens is something you didn\u2019t ask for?<\/p>\n
What are we doing here? Waiting for something to change?<\/p>\n
Are you sitting there waiting for someone to call you special? Are you waiting to be entertained?<\/p>\n
Funny thing is, right after I got through three hundred words of this, Hank Green released a video talking about how stupid guilt over the environment is. And he\u2019s got a point. Maybe I\u2019m just some lucky art kid from Mississippi. Maybe all my anxieties would just wash away if I took some prozac. (Can I say that?)<\/p>\n
Look, he\u2019s right. We can\u2019t just sit here bellyaching about how doomed we are and how the world is gonna explode, and how we\u2019re all gonna die. But man. Twenty thousand years of this, seven more to go. (Or maybe technically four or three, because Bo sang that in 2021 and now it\u2019s almost 2025. Have you thought about that? It\u2019s almost 2025.) And I hope, like Hank Green says, I don\u2019t have to worry about the next hundred years. Maybe I can worry about the next ten.<\/p>\n
I don\u2019t know.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
WARNING: Anxieties I don\u2019t know why I write anymore. I don\u2019t know why, if I can\u2019t save the world by doing it; I don\u2019t want to save the world. I don\u2019t want to be Greta Thunberg, bless the work she does, but I was taking a career quiz, and it recommended humanitarian. And all I … Continue reading “Anxieties”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":89,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20801"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/89"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=20801"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20801\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":20803,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20801\/revisions\/20803"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=20801"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=20801"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.msabrookhaven.org\/literary\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=20801"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}