The society of today is a complex one. Back in the day, you’d become a farmer, a tailor or maybe a soldier. Whatever it was, you were, for the most part, predestined for the job; it wasn’t usually your choice to make, but that of traditions, and of expectations (from, say, your family). And for most people, this severe limitation was not a troubling one: they had never gone through much education, if any at all; thus, they had never learnt to begin with that there could be a more versatile form of life, full of choices to make.

A unique ability of humans is that to make choices. But while some may view it as a gift, I have, on occasion, found it to be a burden, if not a curse. After all, there is one choice we can’t make: whether we would like to decide, or prefer to have everything laid out for us. A cat, or a mere worm, don’t have to worry. Whether they like it or not, virtually nothing in their lives will actually be influenced by them, but rather by environmental factors.

And until recently, and still in some societies that are largely considered backwards, this has been no different for mankind. Have a job chosen for you, have a spouse picked for you, and have a social class appointed for you. And yes, sure: halfway intelligent person will regard that as a flaw; a limitation.

But there is an advantage. If you do not make choices on your own, you have nothing to assume responsibility for either. You will still experience sadness, anger, frustration, even grief, but for the most part, you will be filled with ample glee and happiness. It may be fair to say that you will savor life in its purest form.

Now, anyone could take an airplane into the center of the African jungle and try to live a far more primitive life down there. But it doesn’t quite work like that; once you’re born into the world of individualism, you are in a sense probably far too closed-minded to ever leave it.

Few of the choices that I have made in the recent years have filled me with confidence. Even with those that turned out to be successful, there has been a feeling of wariness that never passed away: it’s still there. Whether it’s the idea that I could have done even better, or that I could have picked something more worthwhile to do, there’s always a strong degree of self-criticism. And those that weren’t successful, as well as those that were or are on the verge of failure, have of course been even more unsettling to me, literally having me lose weeks of sleep.

But most interesting yet were the choices that, ultimately, were self-deceptive. I don’t just go to a friend’s place to have fun; no, I go there because, for that brief moment of time (a few hours), I usually manage to completely erase my mind of any negative, depressive, suicidal thoughts. I will have fun not just because hanging around with someone else can be fun; I will have fun because I’m genuinely relaxed, because I’m distracted, and, again, because of self-deception. It’s a lie. And I know I will hurt a lot of people’s feelings by saying this, and don’t take it the wrong way, but talking to you so much is also a lie. It’s a protective framework of mine to keep myself away from ultimately making the wrongest choice that could ever be made, namely suicide. While I’m busy talking to someone, I cannot do that. While I’m busy playing games with someone, I cannot even contemplate doing that. And while I’m drunk, I cannot even think about contemplating doing that.

Drinking, drugs in general, and the form of socialization depicted above, are all, in the end, means of temporarily reverting to a simpler life, where choices don’t have to be made, cannot be made, and will not be made. One can permanently switch to this mode — that’s what they call addiction — , but that’s barely more desirable than suicide. Either way, you’d be sacrificing the worthwhile aspects of your life, and either way, you’d be needlessly worrying and affecting your friends and supporters.

So for a few years now, I have lived in a balance between two forms of living: one which I do not enjoy, but which challenges my intellect, earns me respect and gives me money: the “day life”; and one which is highly enjoyable, at least during the moment and lets me enjoy social contact, but basically turns my head numb from being utterly primitive: the “night life”.

It cannot continue to work this way.

Whatever God meant for me to become, this cannot be it. It doesn’t make sense. Perhaps it is the challenge of my life, the task God has given me, to replace that balance, and to combine one and the other without sacrificing their respective strengths. Not many people succeed in doing that. Most are primitive: most have turned night life into whole life: the stereotypical brainless redneck. Some have turned day life into whole life: the stereotypical emotionless nerd. Both are ugly in their own ways. Both are extremes I do not wish to have to do with.

But there are, curiously enough, people that do both. People that fulfilled this challenge. I want to join their club, but I don’t know how.

P.S. and rather off-topic: Happy Birthday, Maik.