“It is what it is.”
“Yeah, dog shit is dog shit. You still need to clean it up. This is a bad time to be practicing ‘radical acceptance.’ You can change this. Somethings you can’t. I needed to accept morality.” The two cult members looked at each other and began to clean up the dog shit. “We all die. The earth will burn. Even time is likely to stop unfolding. We all die and we’re lucky that it saddens us more than it even frightens us. Not everyone is lucky to alive, though. I’m not sure most people are glad to be alive, frankly.“
“Much of life is ‘embracing the suck,’ as my drill sergeant use to say. Death is usually not kind, but painful. We can race towards it, because we don’t comprehend it fully. We’ve never been there, especially when there likely isn’t even a void. ‘Reincarnation’ is complete horse shit. Better to procrastinate death by making more strategic health decisions. I exponentially accelerated towards it, in my perception. I don’t believe in a loving god. It would be insane to believe that the universe is plotting in my favor. I at best, merely believe in god. The latter is still probably an improbable absurdity. The former doesn’t match with my perception of reality.”
“It’s up to me to take control of my choices, but psychiatric medication has shown me free will is largely an illusion. I still need it for my own sense of internal accountability. In the end, I’d rather procrastinate dying than going to the gym. Unfortunately most of the time I don’t consider the morbid consequences of my action. I’m playing the game one move at a time.”
He looked at her without judgement, while thinking to himself. “The very fact you are treating it like an abstract game to win is a sad and self absorbed egocentric way to look a for moral foundation and desire to live. You’re young though. At some point, I mentally detach from my ability to accept reality; my brain simply denies some implied aspects about reality. Religion is such mental psychosis. Spirituality is the left over brain damage that never quite heals even as we are heading towards progressive realism of an objective reality.” Disillusionment pretty much destroyed him though. It fuels addictions, to slowly roast his mental health and influence poor behavioral choices. His local cult coven lost 3 people that summer. One was a woman with three minors who hung herself. He hated meetings about death. They were more useful than ‘praise the god and his cult’ meetings though. Those were an hour off his life wasted, though at least chemically balanced he remembered wasting it.
Joker's Wild 