How does it help? How does anything help? Why would anything help? Why are we so fixated on the word ‘help’?
Get up, move on, lie down, jerk off, repeat it ’til it’s blue and the head turns a bit dazy. And if that doesn’t help, how is anything else supposed to?
In fact, fuck the help! Pick a song, the good kind, turn off the lights, kick everyone out of the room, preferably, even from life.
Now, grab that song by the scruff of its neck, squeeze away each drop of feeling in every single word, rhythm, chord. Let it control you, embrace you, even attack you in ways unexplainable.
Remain with that feeling, stick with it, memorize it, remember it so you can use it during the times when you are desperate for help, again.
Be that rhythm, that vibration, those waves that come out of you, unhindered, unobstructed.
Laugh with it, jump with it, cry with it, until you can, until you can’t think anymore until this mind is pure and not corrupt with them thoughts, wild and random.
Extend this feeling as long as you can. Let go of everything that’s dear to you. Stay with it.
Until you are hit with a phenomenon so magical, it hits you right in the dopamine and you drop everything that you are holding, that you ever held.
It’s a phenomenon so alien, and yet so private that it takes you to places that drugs aren’t capable of, wouldn’t dare to.
It’s a phenomenon so transformative, it changes you forever. All you need is a tinge of awareness.
And it exists, this phenomenon does exist. I’ve experienced it, lived it, felt it, flew in and around it, and there are not many things in this Godforsaken life that compares to it.
Try it. And if even that doesn’t help to fill that emptiness inside, then what else really will?
Nothing else will help, nothing helps, I know that. Deep down you know that too. Accept that fact, move along, and stop fucking around with the word ‘help’.
But, then again, it’s too risky to act on it, isn’t it? Only a few would truly do. And they are the lucky ones.