There are some things...

There are some things a man cannot admit to himself; things that must be forced upon him before they are accepted. These things are never secrets, and are rarely hidden beneath more than the finest silk veil. They're seen in the mirror everyday by said man, but that mirror often reflects only that which he wishes to see. It shows the silver lining, and ignores the storm-cloud, and even when the man knows in the deepest valves of his heart that there is something amiss about his life, the mirror hides it in innocent apathy. This is what you wanted to see, isn't it?

Thus the true blow of a serpentine problem is struck when another man says, in kinder words, "Here lies the lowest form of human life, crept from the sewers. He'll be dead before the next election." This, while often left unacknowledged, sets off a chain of events in a man's conscious which ultimately lead to introspection, regret, and perhaps the burgeoning of hope.

Sometimes the blow is welcomed. A string of social media posts or even personal texts written in faux braggadociousness are really cries for help from a man too broken to see his own path. For some, it may come from a family member, for others it may be a dear friend, but it must be struck if there is to be any chance of recovery. There is no trough without a crest, and lying at the bottom of the former can make the latter seem unattainable; as distant and laughable as heaven is for the dying sinner.

And there are some times when it is not struck; when a person dies with no one at their grave. The classic duality of mankind is not love and hate, but rather love and loss. And some lose so much that none but their own ghosts are present at their deathbed. Some mistakes, some habits, sap the love out of relationships, whether in a sudden burst of wanton wrath or in the slow decaying rot of complacency and miserable tolerance. These are things which the aforementioned blow could solve, yet some do not have the person to strike it.

The laughs we buy from our modern forms of entertainment are enough for some, yet for others they're like putting coins into a cheap jukebox at a bar, knowing that no matter what plays, it exists only to mask the rapidly advancing effects of their poison of choice. Without purpose, drive, and a goal, a human is a mass of flesh operated by suicidal engineers. They crash the train because it's fun, and because they hope that someday, one collision will be their last.

And is that not the greatest tragedy of life? When a spark is extinguished before the flame can be set? Each person has within them the innate ability to build their own destinies, from which are wrought legacies. However, without a gentle breeze to guide the aforementioned flame, there will be no destiny save the gutter of addiction, and no legacy save a name in a coroner's book.

Is 80 years an eternity? Only in a child's eyes. More weathered optics know that the four seasons melt like ice cream in midsummer. Life is frail and has a poor tenure on this Earth, and it should not be wasted. But for every person who acts upon their dreams and fulfills them to their highest potential, there is another who lives by King's "if suicide was the only option, you could at least choose your weapon." I've found that in a rapidly modernizing world, more and more people fall into the latter category. Unfortunate, and sometimes crushing, but not unavoidable.

I talked before about the "blow" that must be struck. That candid conversation or even one-liner which needs to occur before the healing process can begin. And it can be struck by anyone; it doesn't require timing or grace. In fact, the less elegant the better, in this case. And it may seem as though it's unnecessary, because while your own conscious is telling you to help, the person you're attempting to save is reassuring you that they're in no danger, like a drowning victim pushing off the lifeguard and telling them that they know how to swim, even as they take their last breath. We are all that lifeguard, and we all have an obligation to save those who we can from drowning. I know this has been a strange post, but it's become very clear to me that there are more people than ever who need help in society, so thank you for bearing with me on this philosophical tirade, and if you ever get the chance, strike that blow. It may just be the best thing you ever do.