How to Not Kill Yourself

How to Not Kill Yourself
From: Me
To: Me

First, note that this isn’t called “How Not to Kill Yourself.” That’s different that what I’m talking about. That would be about not ending your physical life, the results of which lack sufficient data to prove conclusive in any actionable way. This is about how to not kill yourself, which maybe should be phrased as not-kill yourself, like in a zen kind of verb-play on the dialectic of existential suicide, but that seemed pretentious.

Second, this is from me to me. That being said, I don’t know who I am. I’m who I have to be in order to make sense of the moment, and I really do think that if we were to be completely honest, we’d all have to admit to being that person, which means that on a certain level, we basically are the same person. But this sounds like it’s neglecting the physical world, and that seems dishonest to a lot of people, and the entire ethos of this writing depends on the fact that since you don’t know who wrote it, it allows for utter, complete, and even dangerous levels of honesty.

So let me clarify: In this moment, I am a white, cis-het-male pushing forty, and giving any more information than that is stupid to do when you’re tossing out Pastebin links on anonymous imageboards. Also, by labeling myself that way, I’ve just killed myself - so step one on the implied list that the title of this piece would suggest is to not do that. Just don’t.

Information is shitty at being distinct and specific in the human mind, and most especially when it comes to people. We wash all our laundry in the same basket when we get people-based data, and we start sorting our folks in illogical ways. For example, I bet you’re going through a database of white, cis-het-males pushing forty somewhere as a processing sub-routine, aren’t you? If you weren’t, you probably are now. So, where does that get you? What information does that give you about this piece of writing? Are you looking for the statistical probability that you “know” me, or could identify me in “real life?” Protip: incredibly low. Even if you knew which state I was in, the sheer number of people who would fit that category and who are likely to post things on the Internet is staggeringly large compared to the subset of those who you have met and could reasonably identify in the physical world.

So… then what? You think you can infer certain values, political views, or preferences from that piece of information? That’s exactly what you’re led to believe by basically every pillar of culture in which you have most likely been raised, and by which you have acquired your social literacy. But I’d humbly suggest you tell those inferences to fuck right off.

Here’s how this works: I don’t exist. You don’t exist. We are all a bunch of really confused hunks of biomatter who process information by analogic reasoning paired with genetically coded instincts. There is no more a collection of adjectives and nouns that would describe “who” you or I are any more than there is a word that would describe the infinite complexity of subatomic interaction required to bring this moment to fruition. It’s just the us and the now.
So, step two is to just give the fuck up at trying to “find yourself.” He/she/xe isn’t there. It’s the effort to try and summarize yourself and collect bits of humanity to pin on your body like merit badges that bring you closer to death, and ultimately allow for death whatsoever. The more power you get from “being” something, the more it’s going to hurt when you’re not allowed to anymore, which can happen at any time for any reason. If you must, be human. But even that is a limitation by which power being drawn is going to lapse in time - don’t let the Anthropocene hit you on the way out.

Language is bigger than words. What’s written here isn’t really particularly new or significant, and there’s a good chance you aren’t going to “learn” from it. I don’t even know what I’m doing writing it, really, except that it’s like one of those magic spells you cast into the air when you’re feeling unsafe and you want to somehow draw positivity and protection - but then again, I’m not anyone in particular, so it’s like I just want it for everyone who feels unsafe right now. And right now doesn’t even mean anything, because not only do I have no idea when you will read this, but time and space are the same thing and not really even anything at all but a useful metaphor to organize things so that they make sense - which they hardly ever do.

But sometimes, they make enough sense to give us the idea that there’s a reason why we’re doing what we’re doing, and that we’ll finally have enough information to act. That’s the third and final step, I’m pretty sure: wait for all the information. Since you’re trapped in a body right now (I assume - I really hope there are those reading this who aren’t, in point of fact, but that’s not currently feasible in a rhetorical sense of asking for feedback), you perceive time as linear. Obviously, it’s not constant, because we all know it crunches and stretches as a function of how much we like what we’re doing, but there’s a basic order of then, now, and not-yet wherein you sense that after reading this, you are mutually exclusive with any previous moment in a way that you could affect the causal relationships within any of those moments. But that’s actually an assumption. There may be a point at which that’s no longer true, and you might effect a causal relationship between your positional future and past that reverses the notions you experience in the present. You must not-kill yourself by recognizing that there is information you do not have, and that will always be true until it isn’t.

End transmission from the big giant head.