Dark Stuff

 

Dark Stuff

Lately, I've been writing about death, suicide, rape, and human suffering. I may be at the second stage of my life (or third or final), but I know I'm not afraid of dying. My sweet dreams have become nightmares about misery, injustice, and many twisted, horrible things man does. I love people and the world and new experiences, as little as they may be, but I find depressing stories fascinating. In every story I write, I need at least one death or some excruciating misery, otherwise, I think it's missing something, and I find that boring.

I'm angry at God, the Pope, and all angels and saints. I'm not afraid to say it, even if we meet soon. Not that I don't want to see them, I do, but not yet. I don't have a reason to say that I'll meet with God soon when the safest bet would be that I'll end up with Satan in hell, but I like to assume I'm a good person. One thing's for sure; I've been a little disappointed in God for years. Most people could find this aberrant, but I will never be an abnegated or submissive person. (question authority, remember?) I'm upset because I know God can do much better, the Pope acts like a king, and if angels and saints exist, they must be busy on another planet.

I'm assuming that God exists, but a couple of days ago, I read an article saying that the Bible is the only proof that God exists. But if you use the same reasoning, the only evidence that Spider-Man exists is the comic book. Can anybody question that?

 I mentioned God because we all know He could make things better. I don't blame him for the situation on our planet; humans should take at least fifty percent of the blame. 

 

 But the current state of our world wouldn't allow my mind to think or write about anything but dark stuff. 

If I keep writing about suicidal thoughts and obscure stuff, my family and friends might be afraid (or happy) that one of these days, I will appear hanged inside a closet. But I will never do that because I'm not brave enough. (Have you noticed that I use a lot of parentheses?) (I like them a lot; they're like thoughts inside my thoughts.)

What worries me is that I used to be optimistic, but now I think I have moved to the other extreme. I didn't notice when I began to change. I feel better on this side, though. An optimistic person would never think about committing suicide or the end of the world. But my masochistic mind enjoys it.

I also know that being pessimistic shortens your life, lessens your joy, and reduces your happiness. It attracts sickness and makes friends disappear. I'm not satisfied with my way of thinking or my attitude, but at the same time, I don't want to change.

There's a song by Billy Joel that goes:

"I rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints

Sinners are much more fun."

He knows it, too, "Good is boring." That's another reason my mind likes to be on the bizarre side of stories because good is boring.

There's no "they lived happily ever after" in my stories. There has to be a death, a rape, a suicide, or something dreadful going on in any of my tales to be entertaining. The Bible is a perfect example of this kind of reading material. Whoever wrote it was thinking the same way. 

I prefer chaos, hostility, and murder over romance, comedy, and happy endings. After all, we all know that we will have a death sentence in the future. Every second that passes, we get closer to our deaths. We are constantly dying while we are continually living. We could never experience the best possible world simply because human beings exist. We are evil. There's no need to blame anything or anyone. 

But I assure you, I'm a happy pessimist and enjoy that my stories will never end well. 

Just like in real life, where all ends in death. 

Edmundo Barraza  

Lancaster, Ca. May-31-2014