Selfish vs Selfless

The sun heats my eyelids. I wish there were tears. I fail to hold back the dry sob.

A glowing 7.16 begs me, rise.

I turn away.

The little black notebook leans deflated against the bed lamp, as if it too failed to rest.

Not yet.

I turn back.

9.32 rolls its eyes.

Time to move.

The cacophony of my lungs sends dust motes spiraling.

10.41 tuts.

Ignoring the sound of crumpling paper I force myself away from the bed.

I labor at depression's short-cold-wet blanket and, unable to loose the chokehold, lug us to the shower.

Warm skin, wet hair and less fog rallies me back.

11.57 inspects itself.

I place the book on my pillow.

New page. New day. New start.

I glance at the drawer beside my bed.

One entry. One job. One word.

Decide.

Old Pizza first.

13.12 crosses its arms.

Freshly licked fingers open the drawer.

I take out the folded piece of paper.

13.39 taps its foot.

I gently unfold it, staring outside as a redback coffins its twitching prey.

14.06 grinds its teeth.

Closing the neon anxiety inside the drawer, I hear a vein shortcircuit.

Breathe.

I peer at the cheque.

$20,000.

A twinge of nostalgic bewilderment fails to douse the acid in my stomach.

I used to look forward to this.

Mum says I should make lists.

'What do I want to buy that costs $20,000?' Fills line 1.

What if buying something isn't a priority? What about charity, what about gifting, what about investing? What if I don't want to use it all at once on one thing? WHAT IF MY OWN SELFISH SHORT TERM GRATIFICATION ISN'T A PRIORI-

Cross out line 1.

Breathe.

'What can I do with this?' Better, less specific, more options.

Too many options? Like set it on fire? Lik-

Line 2 joins the crossed out club.

How about 'Selfish vs Selfless?'

Selfless people take care of others while selfish people take care of themselves.

Let's not start with the hard one.

Charity then. Should I start my own? 'The charity for privileged white boys whose mum pays for their house, car and insurance, along with always being a safety net if they were to do anything stupid.'

Catchy.

Should I give it to my Mum? No, it's been too long. I couldn't bear the look she'd give me if I gave it to her now.

So donating. Which charity? Which cause? They're probably all good. Women's rights, racial rights, LGBT rights, homeless people, education, media bias, famine, drugs, physical disabilities, mental disabilities, fair work, veterans rights, child labour, the list is endless.

And all the sub-causes that go under each of those. Abortion rights, gender pay gap, pink tax, rape culture, maternity leave, just to name a few and just for women.

How many charities focus on those issues? How many focus on only one of those issues? How many pretend to focus on one of those issues, say abortion, but instead try to guilt and bully women into having a child they don't want and are not prepared for?

And what about the causes that seek to expose and prevent these fake clinics? They need funding as well. Should I donate to them?

Would they even want help from an oblivious boy?

And that's only the causes for humans! Causes created as a direct response of our own systemic cruelty and atrocious treatment of each other.

What about wildlife? What about sea life? What about conservation? WHAT ABOUT CLIMATE CHANGE! HOW MANY YEARS HAVE PEOPLE BEEN SAYING OUR PLANET IS BURNING AND OUR GOVERNMENT HASN'T DONE A FU-

Breathe

The sunset flashes through the fog, a reminder: the day does not wait.

Repentant, I retrieve the book from across the room and hike back, nearly slipping on the discard littering my room .

Back to today.

I stare at the cheque, my eyes tracing the many creases, folds and slight tears at the edges. Sometimes I convince myself it's just a piece of paper.

Should have started with the easy one.

Selfish.

Short term gratification or long term investment?

I could use the money to get some kind of independence, stop relying on my mum to pay for everything.

I could quit Macca's. Do some soul searching, find my passion?

I could travel? See the world, meet amazing people, actually do and be part of something instead of feeling like such an abject failure. I really didn't appreciate life before Covid. I still don't.

Maybe pay off my Uni debt? Or re-enrol? Not waste all those hours critiquing the juxtaposition between Alfred Dolittle and Henry Higgins? I was lazy last time, this time could be different. I could get a degree and finally feel like I could start writing, like I had something to contribute.

I can't waste $20,000.

How many physio visits would that be? I could fix my back! And knees!

I could fix me.

Should have started this list with 'achievable' as a criterion.

So, should I invest in stocks? And if so which one? And if I want to invest ethically, should I care about returns? Or just put the money in funds that put money towards the future, like Solar? Is that any different to charity if I don't expect anything back?

I could start my own business? I could sell solar panels, or wind mills, or plant based protein, or plant leather, or edible bugs, or bamboo toothbrushes, or electric cars, or toilet paper made from recycled paper, or clothes made from recycled plastic, or seaweed, or literally anything that can help save the planet!

I should have studied business or something, I don't even know how to begin with any of this.

$20,000 is too much. I balk at the thought of spending more than $500 in a fortnight. Lack of a mortgage and rent and children and medical bills and responsibilities are great for a wallet.

I could spend $2000 on the new Playstation, buy a new TV, buy a new chair, buy 10 new games and still have enough to pay for the exclusive and not pointless and not overpriced membership subscription.

I could spend $5000 on ... I don't even know what! I could change the wheels of my car to look cooler, add highlights to the sides, change the paint job, add leather seats and that still wouldn't even come close to five grand.

I could buy two thousand pizzas! Four thousand on a Tuesday!

How can I struggle to imagine spending five grand when I know without any doubt that finding an affordable loan rate for a decent house would require dramatically more than $20,000?

I can't even order a coffee without agonising over how much I want to spend vs how much I want to enjoy it.

WHAT AM I DOING?

Charity? Which one?

Ethical Investing? In what?

My future? Pay off a debt or start something?

CHOOSE DAMN YOU!

Each day that goes by it becomes less and less. It's still $20,000 obviously, but that means less each day.

I don't even know if the government's going to take half of it when I finally cash it in! Is my maybe less than $20,000 actually maybe less than $10,000?

I mean isn't this what I wanted? I didn't want all this money in the first place and maybe having less wil- DID I JUST LOSE $10,000!

I CAN'T I DON'T KNOW I'M SORRY MUM I DON'T WANT THIS PLEASE I CAN'T DO THIS ANYM-

Breathe

Just, breathe

I open the drawer and regard the bile inducer.

3.34 ignores me .

Better things to do.

Breathe.

Later than I hoped.

Tomorrow will be better. I hold my head and shake, trying to keep the hope in or the pain out, I don't know.

4.12 pretends to snore.

I didn't earn it.

I didn't ask for it.

I didn’t even want it.

I wonder what my younger self would see if they looked at me.

Still living with my mum. Still no responsibility. Still no girlfriend.

In the exact same place he was 10 years ago.

What would he say? Would he scream? Would he cry? Would he bang his fists against me, damning me for the life he would end up dying?

Or would he stare? And change nothing? Would he look at me and accept that it's no less than he’s earned? No less than he deserves?

I wish I'd never got it.

I don't remember how.

I don't remember when.

I don't even remember if it matters.

$20,000 could change someone's life. Someone else would know exactly what to do with it, how to help people, how to save our planet.

$20,000 isn’t enough. Nothing will ever be enough. Because there’s always something bigger. Always someone gnawing on the malnourished marrow of the destitute. Leaching of those who not only can’t fight but have been indoctrinated to believe there’s nothing to fight. To immediately spurn any counsel suggesting otherwise.

How can I fight any of it?

I can't save them.

I can't even save myself.

I'm part of the problem.

I stare at the cheque

I fold it back up, neatly, trying not to cause any more tears, not quite succeeding.

I go through the little black book, I see the previous entries, some with the makings of a list, some with the fruits of my frustration pushing through onto adjacent pages, still others have been ripped and torn in frustration.

I gaze around the room, at the fruits of the countless days, months, years of this agony. The crushed notebooks and trampled sheets of paper, hiding a floor I can't remember. All devoted to this choice.

The books stare. Some are silent, others deafening, all judge.

I lay the cheque down in its cradle, praying it let me sleep.

The choice is no closer to being made, my purgatory no closer to its end.

The dearth of my strength is familiar to me, just as familiar as my lack of weakness.

The abstention of choice is as excruciating as it is easy.

I'm in a better position to do something meaningful than I ever have been.

Why can I do nothing but waste it?

I am an undeserving millennial, an undeserving middle class boy.

Why do I even bother? I have always squandered everything: education, opportunities, privilege, life.

And no matter how many times I fight it, I don't change. I stay in my room gazing out at a world that does not wait. Life moves, always. Maybe that's the lesson. If the world doesn't care, if your mum is always going to be disappointed, if you're never going to meet your own expectations - why care about any of it? Why care when you're always going to fail? Why care when you can do nothing, when you can't even comprehend the scope and magnitude of what you're fighting?

How does fighting with a slightly bigger stick do anything against the people with the bombs?

Is fighting purely for the sake of fighting, for saying that you 'at least tried', really worth it?

The darkness of my lids hold no answers, only contempt.

No.

I open my eyes. The gold light of dawn ascends, driving the night away.

No longer.

I will not let indecision determine my destiny one day longer.

I look at the floor covered in paper, the waste of years.

My waste.

How many trees were cut down for me to just toss them on the floor?

How much of the amazon, lost because of me?

Probably not much.

Only a small amount.

$20,000 would cover that easily.

Done.