The following is an exclusive contribution from our Editor-in-Chief, Ryan Gurian.
The days pass like episodes of The Simpsons, year in and year out. Some go noticed, most are ignored, and others just exist as dots connecting to each other. Sometimes the prevailing dread of knowing it’ll all end one day forces us to sit in a dark room and confront those feelings. And sometimes…we instead choose to eat an entire jar of raspberry jam with a spork.
The jam, the utensil, and the dietary consequences are not what’s important here, but rather, the profound choices I either made or ignored that landed me here in the first place. Is there value in performing this activity? Sure, I suppose, we all need to eat. However, is it a form of submission or is it a form of acceptance that I have decided to eat raspberry jam–an entire jar, no less–and with a spork of all things. Who even keeps sporks in the house? There’s a rock solid chance this was obtained through other seemingly inconsequential means.
Is it a form of submission or is it a form of acceptance that I have decided to eat raspberry jam–an entire jar, no less–and with a spork of all things. Who even keeps sporks in the house?
In this particular instance, we can suggest that it is neither acceptance or submission that has led me to eat an entire jar of raspberry jam with a spork. Instead, I’m merely punishing myself as a manifestation of regrets. I can just as easily go buy a fast food cheeseburger or, at the very least, only have one or two sporkfuls of raspberry jam, but no. Here I am, eating an entire jar.
Is it worth it? Of course not. To forgive myself for the road I took before arriving at this jar would be the better option. Often times I look back at the theoretical punches to my gut that made me feel weak and vulnerable and stupid at the time it happened and I think, “Dammit, if I only did this differently” or “Why didn’t I do or say this instead?”, but what can ya do? I’m only human, which is both a blessing and a curse.
I suppose in the long run I’ll be OK. To my knowledge, I’ve never read about anyone who’s eaten an entire jar of raspberry jam with a spork and died. If it were the way I was taken out of this world, I imagine I’d end up on the front page on reddit or one of those shareable articles everyone passes around about the guy who died eating a full jar of raspberry jam with a spork. No one would ask questions. They’d just laugh…which is fine. The world needs to laugh. We can’t take ourselves too seriously.
I’m not really sure what comes next. I don’t even know if I’ll poop this out. It may stay in my body until my final days because that’s the phase in life I’m about to enter; the phase of stalled digestion a.k.a. midlife. All I know is that I don’t regret eating an entire jar of raspberry jam with a spork. I regret so much more that came before it.
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