by Cazzie David
The final stage of my intensive program involved “supervised walks” with Christina, a frail woman with hair almost as curly as mine. This slightly more sensible activity took place during the sixth hour of the day. Christina (who I guess specialized in walking?) strolled beside me and “guided” me to think only about the things I saw or felt in the moment. For example: There’s a crack in the sidewalk. That leaf is green. That breeze feels nice. My feet are touching the ground. It felt like a lesson on how to think like a dumb person. Or perhaps how to think like a dude, but the kind who would meet up with a girl on Tinder while on a family vacation.
The only part of the program that seemed to have any real logic behind it was the yoga classes. Finally, a proven method. I was given the schedule for the closest studio, which listed all the types of yoga available: bikram, yin, vinyasa, restorative. I’m not really a yoga-goer (I’m too embarrassed to use the word yogi, even though it seems I just did), so I had to borrow one of the sticky rental mats that you can pick up staph infections from, something my college roommate told me about before she learned that she can’t tell me anything. Thankfully, I spotted some disinfecting wipes on the front desk and grabbed a handful. Probability of staph decreased.
“Oh, each wipe is one dollar,” said the very smug woman behind the desk.
“Each wipe. Is one dollar,” I repeated, just to be sure I’d heard her correctly.
“Yes.”
I stared at her blankly, which made her next response entirely predictable.
“Sorry . . . I don’t make the rules?”
I dropped a crumpled ten-dollar bill in front of her and grabbed ten wipes, feeling guilty for the other ways that ten dollars could have been spent. When I got into the studio, I positioned my mat on the floor in the back of the room in a spot that would guarantee the most space around me. I ferociously scrubbed the mat, leaving the pile of wipes beside me so everyone would know I was a germaphobe and that they should set their mats elsewhere. I laid on my back and closed my eyes, trying not to think of the hundreds of sweaty people who had lain there before me.
A few seconds later the teacher burst in and shouted, “Hello, mommies!” I opened my eyes and saw that I was surrounded by twenty pregnant women in various stages of “about to pop.” It was in this moment I learned what prenatal yoga was. I don’t know why I knew what whooping cough was at four years old but not what prenatal meant at nineteen.
Leaving abruptly felt like the wrong thing to do. I didn’t want to draw more attention to myself; class had already started, and I had already paid for it, and for the wipes. So I pushed out my stomach and did baby-safe yoga—without carrying a baby, surrounded by baby-bearing women—for an hour that was filled with more shame and anxiety than I had ever experienced pre–brain rehab.
I quit the program after three weeks, and Joanne probably got herself a new pair of Dior sunglasses. The whole thing had become so self-indulgent, it was making me sick. Every time I sat on that couch, my insides wanted to crawl out of my body and leave it there to suffer alone, fearing even the memory of doing something so self-involved. Ironically, this might have been the reason that I did start to feel better. Not because any of it changed my perspective, but because I may have subconsciously solved some of my issues so I wouldn’t have to keep going. I guess slowly annoying your patients so much that they are forced to improve themselves is a program that could work in and of itself.
In reality, I knew there would always only be one solution: IgNoRaNcE i$ bLiS$. Ignore that you are a body or even a soul. Ignore everything that’s unfathomable, like the fact that you have eyeballs you can see out of. Ignore that you live on this planet and that there is such a thing as a planet. Ignore what can happen, what will happen, and what has happened. The less you know, the better, since anything you know can instill fear, sadness, or confusion, but mostly paralyzing fear. What you already know? Pretend you don’t know it. Willfully unknow it. Live your life like an asshole. Assholes figured out the way to live a long time ago. Too dumb to think about the state of humanity and life and death. “There’s nothing I can do about it anyway, so why should it affect my happiness?” is a great quote from every asshole.
Except sometimes you’ll be sitting there trying to distract yourself from mortality and the fact that you’re currently decaying and that nothing will ever matter. No impact no matter how great will ever make a difference—even Jesus Christ will eventually be forgotten. You’ll put on a breathing meditation, and take a deep breath but then think about how you’re breathing, and then suddenly breathing no longer feels like breathing; it feels like drowning. So you stop breathing. All you have to do to die is not breathe, and all you have to do to not breathe is think about how you’re breathing. You’ll try to take your mind off the anxiety the meditation brought you by thinking of anything else; absolutely anything will do. Except how any day now the Big One will hit Los Angeles and you and everything you call home will be lost in a gaping hole in the earth. You’ll go sit outside, thinking that could help ease your mind, and ten minutes in you realize you’re giving yourself three different cancers at the same time: skin (sun), brain (hot phone in the sun), liver (beer).
Shhhhh, you tell yourself. That leaf is green. That breeze feels nice. My feet are touching the ground. And I have feet. Because I am trapped in a fucking human body. Fuck!!!!!!!!!
* * *
Tweets I Would Tweet If I Weren’t Morally Opposed to Twitter: I
Guys, I hate Twitter soooo much
If I had one wish besides world peace it would be to delete twitter but that's kind of the same thing
Everyone can be a journalist now!!!!!!!!!! yay!!!!!!!!!!!
Twitter’s like: Alright u guys, write the most disgusting thing you can think of in 140 characters. Everyone in the human population ready? Ok 1 2 3 GO
The only thing worse for my mental health than Twitter or Instagram is Deadline Hollywood
Anyone who texts We need to talk in this day and age is an actual terrorist.
u cannot text a person w/ 5 anxiety disorders “Can I ask you a question?”
The only time I experience joy is when I see a big dog next to a little kid
If I hate myself when I’m young how will I like myself when I’m old
Remember when you were three years old and the worst thing you knew was getting sunscreen put on? None of your parents’ friends had died yet and everyone was in love and happy?
There are as many Jewish supermodels as there are pretty comedians
I can’t be a bad person because I will hold in my pee if I’m in a group of people who are having fun as to not leave and affect the good energy they’re feeling
Serenity and the opposite of serenity is truly believing nothing matters
Why do we as humans hate taking care of the toothpaste cap so much?
Being high is turning a flashlight on in the middle of the day.
I was so depressed last night that I read my horoscope
I was so bored last night I watched every single Instagram story on my feed.
All of my crushes are dead
What if I’m about to die and don’t know it’s about to happen and I’m looking at an article about Scott Disick
Sometimes I think about the girl who got canceled for tweeting that she thought the kid from Stranger Things was hot. I hope she’s recovered from that traumatizing experience
I spend the same amount of time talking myself into walking into traffic as I do talking myself out of it
It’s hard for me to choose what’s worse, life or death. Is it worse being alive and watching people die or being dead and having to watch people be alive
I can always tell if someone hasn’t gotten a text back from a guy they’re hooking up with by the content they’re posting on their story.
Sometimes you gotta do something nasty to make things clean
Favorite pastimes: texting boys and collecting their T-shirts.
You will never see a m
ore immediate reaction out of somebody than if you say “I don’t feel good” in the back of a cab.
I wish there were a third gender for just non-idiots. It’s my only identity
The meanest comment you can get on a photo of yourself is “You inspire me to be the most confident version of myself.”
My least favorite comment I get is “who hurt u?” bc I don’t know!!! and they’re right I sound rly bitter !! Idk what happened!
The only effective way to get off your phone is for someone to take a picture of you looking down at your phone. It’s the ugliest version of yourself you will ever see
It’s weird we haven’t found a better system than water fountains. I feel like a circus animal every time I drink out of one. How do we have iPhones but still water fountains?
Whoever marries Shawn Mendes is going to hate those performances of “Señorita.” It’s kind of like . . . think about your future wife, u know? U can be loyal to your gf while being disloyal to your future wife and the google search that will haunt her for eternity
What doesn’t kill me makes me more fucked up.
It sucks that all your exes are just out there doing whatever they want, stuck only with the memories of the embarrassing things u did and said w them
Imagine the anxiety of being on Love Island and getting diarrhea
Every time a gang of motorcyclists pass by I have to stop myself from screaming at them, “LITERALLY EVERYONE HATES YOU!!”
One of the biggest lies one tells besides “It’s in the mail” is “Can we please celebrate once I’m back?”
Ways I like to pass the time: think of all the ways I can kill myself without leaving the room I’m currently in.
in order to cook octopus they have to beat them to death because if you try and kill one instantly the octopus’s muscles tense up and the texture is too hard to eat. Sorry, I just didn’t want to be the only one who knew that.
If you respond to a troll on the internet you are not stable no matter how stable your response sounds
I have never taken a nap in my life. Naps and “passing out on the couch” are not possible if u have obsessive thoughts.
falling asleep can maybe be done if u play a game called ONLY LISTEN TO THINGS THAT AREN’T IN YOUR HEAD for at least a couple hours
every night I want to scream at my bed “seriously what do you want from me?! I took off my socks, I put them back on, I tried both sides, going on my back, I put a pillow between my legs!!! WHAT DO YOU WANT!”
What would really happen to you if you could lean the seat back on an airplane one more inch during takeoff and landing?
I am 90 percent hate and 10 percent water
Do you think there’s anyone who is still jerking off to magazines by choice? Like indie masturbation, the cassette tapes of porn
It’s so rude that you can’t stop time no matter what.
Every time I sit in a beach chair I feel like a fat Southern man holding a beer even if I’m not holding one.
Do u guys feel that? It almost feels like a huge weight on your shoulders?
I pretend I’m a spy every time I plug in or pull out a charger
Life is just waiting for someone to contact you with something interesting
Why God Is Definitely Real
I’m composed of contradictions, and so I am constantly at war with myself. I hate everyone and everything, but I also feel bad for everyone and everything. I think I’m too loud but also too quiet. I don’t trust anyone, yet I trust everyone, arguably to the point of self-sabotage. I believe nothing matters and everything matters, that life is meaningless and also precious. I believe in nothing, but I also believe in the universe. I believe in sense, but I also believe in God. God makes no sense, yet God is somehow the only thing that makes sense. I’m not superstitious, but I believe in God so much that I actively try not to figure out the meaning of life, because I think if and when you do, God kills you.
It feels like a betrayal of my personality to believe in anything that isn’t backed up by a great deal of proof, but I believe in God because there is confirmation of Their (God tweeted that He has switched His pronoun to They) existence everywhere we go, and I’ll prove it to you—you know, beyond having you watch anything narrated by David Attenborough.
1. Puppies and Kittens
If there weren’t puppies and kittens, I might not believe in God, but since there are, I have no choice but to believe. Imagine if you were God, and you were in charge of creating everything on this earth. After you created people, would you not 100 percent think to create a pet for said people? I think you would. There is no way God isn’t real, because puppies and kittens are the exact creatures a God would make for a person. They’re simply too cute to have been created by anything else. Of course, they shit and piss and fuck up your furniture, but nothing God makes comes without a lesson. God’s favorite hobby is teaching lessons. God knew exactly what They were doing, so They created the cutest animals possible to distract us from the banality and horror of being alive.
2. Because Everything Gets Old
We know everything has to die eventually. But what God did, which was so brilliant and a sure reason why They definitely exist, is make it so that everything is supposed to get old before it dies. God intended for everything to get old before death so it would be easier for us! When our parents and grandparents get old, we almost start to want them to die because they can barely talk or hear and that’s no fun at all! Why is it so much sadder when someone young dies than when someone old dies? Because no one wants old people to keep living, since they are such a drag! God makes people age so we don’t care as much when they die. It’s simple, and it’s genius. The type of genius that could only have been thought of by God. Plus, we all get so hideous by the time death rolls around that we’re into dying. Way to go, God.
3. Fruit
I’m sorry, but how could fruit be real if there wasn’t a God? God was just like, A’ight, I’m gonna create a few super-cute, delicious but also hydrating things for people to eat that they can find on trees, bushes, or in the ground! Um, good idea much? If there was no God, do you think an apple or strawberry could exist? Think about the color of a watermelon . . . you think that’s nature? Well, guess what—God created nature! If you were God and you had to create what a specific fruit tastes like, you would without a doubt make one that tastes like a fuckin’ tropical island (mango, papaya, pineapple). If you had the ability to create what fruit looks like, you would be overwhelmed with power, unable to restrain yourself from ordering hot pink! Lime green! Orange and red! God is so fucking real. And don’t even get me started on coconuts. The hard shell so it stays perfect, and when you crack it open, you get this miraculous, sweet, sometimes pink water? And every fruit has different vitamins! Feeling sick? Oh, it’s chill, God made oranges to fight it. Get your shit together. God’s real, and it’s because fruit is real.
4. Alcohol/Weed
So let’s say God is real and They’ve created everything: People are there, fruit’s there, the dogs and cats are on the way, but God knows one thing is missing . . . everyone on earth is bored and miserable, despite the fruit. What does he do? Bam. Weed. Alcohol. God gave us alcohol and weed because God knew most people wouldn’t survive on this planet without inebriation. God really went the extra mile, creating something that could single-handedly induce good times and alleviate the bad. People can drink and smoke or they can choose either or none, but God knew both needed to exist. Of course, they both come with lessons because, again, God can’t get enough of those. But still, it’s too perfect for it not to be the work of God—did I mention weed is also a miracle drug that can cure almost any ailment? EXPLAIN THAT. That’s right. God.
5. Mint
No accident could have made mint. It’s a flavor that helps everyone on a daily basis, elevating their quality of life in morning and night. There is not one person who thinks mint smells or tastes bad. It is universally agreed upon as the thing you want to smell and ta
ste like. Coincidence? I think not. It’s the only flavor that will never make you nauseated no matter what state you’re in. In its natural form, it can even alleviate nausea. It makes humans’ mouths smell good, and it’s without a doubt the best ice cream flavor. You know what they say: If mint is real, God is real.
6. Sun and Snow
Although weather conditions can sometimes be so terrible it makes me not believe in God, good weather can feel so good that it makes me believe again. Sun feels so fucking good. Like, sex is cool, but have you ever soaked in afternoon sunlight? When you haven’t been in the sun in a little while, and you see a crack of sunlight in the sidewalk and step into it, it feels like God Themself is giving you light, strength, and warmth. It’s a healing station that’s free and open eight hours a day. Also it can make you tan, a.k.a. look hot, which is absurd.
Snow, on the other hand, is so beautiful that if you’re just around it, it can trick people into thinking you too have ineffable beauty. Not only is snow the most extraordinary thing to watch fall from the sky, but you can also ski and make stuff out of it? Just another added plus by God. Classic. I left out snowflakes on purpose because if I really think about them, I’ll lose my mind.