The Existential Crisis

Slouching unenthusiastically in the booth seat, I read through the same Facebook feed I had looked at relentlessly for a glimmer of entertainment for the past 20 minutes one last time before relinquishing my iPhone and placing it on the table. It was a tired routine that many are familiar with, the endless search for a satisfactory distraction to distance themselves from the pangs of the real world. Emotions, relationships, eye contact: they all seem so overbearing when paralleled with the pixels on a screen and the simplicity of egotism; life's easier when you only care about yourself.

I suppose that due to my lackluster expression and posture, a little girl, who had been sitting a table away from me, came under the assumption that I was waiting for something or someone. Having the bravery of a child she approached me. "Hey kiddo," I said, unsure of her intentions.
"What are you waiting for?" She had a half smile and a distinct spark of curiosity in her eyes.
It was a simple question, but I suddenly felt the world around me rush out of focus. Eyes widening in amazement, I sat in shock as I felt the friction on the tectonic plates in my soul suddenly release, and the tremors pulverized the immaterial walls around my heart. Unable to muster up an answer to the question, the girl lost interest and wandered off. What am I waiting for? Is it a person? Is it an event? I knew I was unhappy and I didn't know why; I knew something was wrong and I didn't know what. It haunted me.

Of course, after that split second of confusion and questioning my entire existence, I realized what she meant. How silly of me. I've come to terms with the fact that it isn't really the question itself though, but it's about how we respond. That feeling she gave me in the moment went away but the question still remained, and I didn't really have a response for myself, and it wasn't just because I wasn't *actually* waiting on anything; I was definitely waiting on something. I guess more than anything, to me, the question turned out to be rhetorical. The real heart of it lied in the fact that I shouldn't be waiting on anything at all.

It's all terribly cliche and cheesy, but for a split second, I really did have my own little existential crisis. Everything in my life hit a stone wall and I felt unable to explain who I was or what I was doing with my life, all because a kid thought I looked bored. Life is a very long ordeal: it's the longest thing we'll ever experience. Regardless, this is no reason to waste it. If you're waiting on someone or something to come into your life to make it better, you've forgotten that you are your own plot device. You, and sometimes you alone, have the power to set into action a rich and meaningful life. The idea that you are important enough to be the main character of somebody else's book isn't just selfish, but dumb. There are billions of individuals on this planet, and you are only one of them.

I know I told you earlier that living is easier when you only care about yourself, but to be completely honest, that was a half truth. Living a life where you only care about yourself is hardly a life at all. I will personally guarantee you right now that, the next time you're at lunch or dinner or a coffee date (aka maybe right now), if you will put down your phone and look the beautiful person across from you in the eyes, you will find more enjoyment in them than you would in the black hole of attention called your phone, and if you don't let me know and I will drive to your house and give you a hug. Escape from the harshness of reality and the difficulty of human interaction is in the palm of your hand, and if you choose to surrender the moment you're in to that fancy screen you will never get it back. So, instead, face the challenge head on and be the best "you" that you can be. Living is hard, and anybody who tells you otherwise hasn't tried it yet. It's hard and it's wonderful and it's yours for the taking.

You're doing drugs, kids

"Weed isn't a drug." The words burst proudly from her lips so matter-of-factually that I knew immediately how strongly she believed in them. "It can't be a drug because it's a plant."

Dumbfounded, I replied "If parts of plants can't be drugs than I guess opium isn't either. Do you even know what opium is?" I didn't need to wait for her response; her expression revealed her ignorance. At that time I simply opened Google Chrome on my phone and showed her the definition of a drug. "A medicine or other substance which has a physiological effect when ingested or otherwise introduced into the body." Despite the presence of evidence that refuted her claims, she seemed unwilling to believe. This proved, in my own mind, that not only was this 15 year old girl lighting up in her free time, but she was being lied to about what she was really doing, or even worse, she was just lying to herself about it.

This is not a long blog post about marijuana. I'm not here to mindlessly spout my (relatively worthless) opinion concerning weed. I did not come here today to wax eloquent explaining various viewpoints on the topic of recreational drug use. Nope. Wrong-o. I just want you all to know that cannabis is indeed a drug, and the fact that it's a plant does nothing to change that. Just like some poisons, snakes, and death, it's completely natural. It is also a drug. Don't tell yourself it isn't a drug, because you're wrong. Don't tell other kids it's not a drug, because you'd be wrong. Don't let anyone else tell you that it's not a drug, because, yup, you guessed it, wrong again. Furthermore, and more importantly, little kids shouldn't be doing drugs. In my mind, you're a bunch of babies sucking on bongs when you should still be begging your mommy in the cereal isle as Wal-Mart for chocolate pebbles instead of rice crispies.

So, everybody, this has been my PSA to all the youth of America: if you smoke weed, you're doing drugs. Also, as a side note, I'd really appreciate it if whoever is telling kids that weed isn't a drug would stop doing so immediately. This young girl, as dumb as she may be, was only 15 years old, and I can guarantee you with every ounce of confidence th.at I have that she would better benefit from doing her homework and having a reasonable bed time than from getting stupid on the weekends with her stupid pothead friends. Honestly, to me, it's pretty depressing to know that a bunch of young kids are out making terrible life decisions right now when I know deep down in my heart that they should be at home, not making their parents ashamed of them, or wondering when they last time they fed their Neopet was.


So yeah, the end. Don't do drugs, kids