I've been craving Fight Club for like a month. Well, I'm finally watching it. I have like 10 movies in my life that I need to rewatch every once in a while--every few months or so--to get my fix. Renew my purpose. Emancipate my mind. So yeah, that's what I'm doing. I am Jack's complete lack of surprise. It's a new film with every rewatch. I try to wrap my mind around a character who so seamlessly befriends, admires, loathes, and finally relinquishes the need for a alter ego. Humans cope with life, with their incredible amounts of shit, in different ways. In unbelievable ways. In terrifying ways. Forming an extreme alter ego is one way. And although incredibly destructive, Tyler Durden shakes the comfort and certainty of an IKEA furnished, 9-5 office job, bullshit life. And dammit, I respect that.
"No fear, no distractions."
Fear is something that's been trickling with fervor into my everyday thoughts. As I stress about a wasted youth, I desperately search for answers to unanswerable questions, plummeting deeper into this quarter-life crisis. It's a real thing. Maybe. Or at least it's a swell label to hypothetically paste on this mess of emotional wreckage. Ooh, can you feel that drama? Dripping from every 23-year-old pore on my body.
"Stop trying to control everything and just let go."
