FLASH FORWARD TO -
After the age of twenty-one, things generally get worse, not better. Sure, there are exceptions to this rule: “Hey, my pension is maturing nicely…or it was.” “I just had a beautiful new child…so, there’s that…oh yeah, that’s fulfilling, but not pleasant…” The point here is, after adolescence we are done growing, and the slow process of decay begins. Certainly, there are instances of human intervention to correct, or halt, our decline. For example, they can now use lasers to give a sixty-year-old woman the twat of a nine-year-old. Age of miracles indeed! However, as a general rule, bad things get worse, and good things stop being good, until one day you’re enjoying hot lemon water and reminiscing about what it was like to fuck standing-up.
This is particularly true with any sort of mental illness. You never heard your Mom say, “Wow, my alcoholism is really getting better.” No, more like, “Yes I stopped drinking you asshole, because you put me in this place where I have to go to meetings with smelly pirate people – I have no son! You’re dead to me! I will not sign the durable power of attorney!” Yeah, Mom could talk. The point is, along with everything else, mental flaws come to maturity in adulthood. However, unlike your breasts (your ripe, firm breasts), mental illness takes longer to become apparent. Things that seem like “quirks” in adolescence or early adulthood, slowly develop into full blown “shit that sucks” in middle age.
If you are under twenty-five, and there is anything weird or interesting about you, get with a shrink immediately. Any shrink will do – after all, they’re all great. Of course, no one under twenty five reads this blog. They’re all too busy watching “Tim and Eric,” and having fulfilling sex, and smoking the reefer, and dancing the lambada (it’s the forbidden dance for a reason, you little punks! Or don’t you care about Hep C?)…
So too, caution is suggested when meeting new people. Personality traits which are charming, or even seductive, in a young adult, will always grow into something sick and terrible.
• “She’s so spontaneous!” Right now, that equates to great sex in weird places. Fantastic. In your thirties, you may find yourself legally responsible for a schizophrenic. If you like drama, strap in for the saga.
• “He’s so responsible and successful.” Yeah, that guy has severe control issues. You feel safe with him now. You won’t feel so safe in a few years, when you’re living in the Phil-Specter-compound, smoking cigarettes in the corner, naked because he took your clothes so you wouldn’t wander away.
• “She collects weird things – isn’t that adorable.” Sure, it’s adorable; it’s also called hording, and it’s a symptom of OCD, agoraphobia, and a host of other cute mental problems. You should move in with that girl, and live in a fort of newspapers and catfood cans.
• “He’s so passionate,” because he’s an unmedicated bi-polar, and you met him during a manic phase. Guess how that relationship plays out – like Mary Todd and Abe Lincoln, only without the Civil War to keep it interesting.
In the end, we should all do what the psychologists suggest: Find the most boring people we can, and resign ourselves to the inevitable.
Stay Strong America, and Await Further Instructions.
