Stick around

You decide to leave it on. Maybe you're just too empty to will your arm to turn the key, or maybe you just need to face your emotions.

Either way, the next song begins to play and you feel both extremely regretful and grateful you refused to turn it off.

You pull the seat lever and lean back, looking towards the dreary clouds through wavering-wet glass. They sat up there, crying down upon the world with their delightfully innocent tears to remind you all what nonsense you were putting up with. At any moment you could make the world a paradise, if only you, collective humanity, got together and worked towards it. Worked towards it just as you worked towards paying taxes or sitting in some ridiculous classroom for 50,000 hours where you actually learned something important from it about 1% of that time. Nay, you could do far better than that...you, dearest humanity, could work with passion and delight, conscience-driven productivity if you like, instead of the willing **** mentality you put up with nowadays. You wouldn't then be doing something because you had to, but because you wanted to. Then there would be no end to what you could achieve, then the horrors of the world would slowly disappear and the delight so often hidden would begin to shine through, through all that so many of you have dedicated your pitiful lives contributing to for the sake of the little bit of it you're offered. A sliver of the cake you spent your life baking. All for what? For the dream of living an ordinary life on an exceptional planet where anything's possible and everything you've ever wanted could be right around the corner? Have ye no imagination, you illogical monkeys you?

Have ye no heart to spare, no soul to un-tame, and no mind to let loose? Are you but sheep upon the plain acting as wolves, just as such wolves wanted you to so you'd never rise up and actually do something with your life? Is this really YOU? Or is this the mask you've been asked to wear, day in and day out, for year after year until this very moment you're standing in?

It's called the goddamn present because it's a gift with infinite possibilities! Not because it's some responsibility you're supposed to spend doing what others tell you with it! Be you! Don't be me, don't be them, don't be anyone else, be you damnit! You!

I don't know how to be you, I don't know how to solve these problems we're faced with, but I do know one thing. It's as Beale said in the movie Network, you've got to get mad! You've got to get mad and you've got to show it, man! You've got to get out there and do something with your life like the sun could set tomorrow and leave everything to darkness for all eternity and for all that's left to live!

You've got to get mad enough that depression seems ridiculous, why it seems downright mad! You've got to get mad enough that you recognize the madness in madness itself but continue anyway! Continue until you've conquered the world and then give it all up to everyone just to spite those you took it from! Mad enough to do what must be done, be what you must be, have what you must have, and live life like an absolute unrelenting barbarian, fighting for what you want and never giving up! Never, never, never! Until the goal has been achieved, the life that you want to live is lived, and everything you've ever wanted to do has been done.

At some point you must have fallen asleep, the clouds had begun talking and trying to motivate you. Hah...didn't they know who they were trying to motivate? You think to yourself with a smile that soon turns to a frown. You turned the key and left the car, walking slowly into the house, evening having tackled the day. You hadn't slept long enough to fully satisfy yourself, so you headed straight for your bed and went out like a lightbulb.