In Which La Stranezza is Sick and Decides to Wax Philosophic

Let’s take a moment out of our incredibly busy lives to talk about sickness.

What is sickness? Piled up paper plates and a feeling of utter despair. Needing to take out the trash but incapable of moving from your perch of mattress. Crying because it hurts to walk to the TV to turn down the volume and your monster siblings lost the remote.

Sickness is pain. Pain, some say, is weakness leaving the body; but I disagree. Weakness does not leave; we are all vulnerable to the chains and malice of this life on earth; rather, wisdom comes in. Wisdom, and the knowledge to avoid further suffering–that is pain. We suffer so that we can grow wise and suffer no more.

Some of us are better at learning from our suffering than others, though. Some of us refuse to learn and commit ourselves to that sleep of death voluntarily–they end their suffering prematurely. Others put themselves into a state wherein death might come all the more easily–think of soldiers, policemen, and inner-city hotdog vendors–they are too noble (and brave) to end their suffering, but suicidal enough to up their chances. There is then the third class of us who avoid suffering altogether, those who will not acknowledge suffering’s icy grip on our lives–these are the true rat bastards. They are paralysed by fear.

To live is to suffer; to avoid suffering is to avoid life. But suffering is also wisdom, and so a vicious circle is involved. You do not suffer, you do not live, you cannot grow wise and learn to live and suffer, but rather to be more conditioned by your fears. Ergo, by avoiding suffering, you become a dirty rat bastard. So go out there and get punched in the face, and feel glad about it, because you can’t grow to enjoy your life until you know how to hate it first.

~~La Stranezza

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