I don’t know how I can really get it together to go on with the day, with my job, with smiling and acting normal. I’m in this horrible place of Can’t Continue. And then I sort of get it.

The spectrum is too small.

In my mind, the spectrum for significance is too small. If I put the murdered bodies of my friends on one end, stuff like holding down a job seems immensely trivial. Wearing clean underpants falls off the spectrum entirely. And that’s a large part of why it feels I cannot go on. Daily life seems immensely unimportant compared to matters of life and death. Well, my idea of the high end of the spectrum is just too small. It’s like the scale only went from 1-10. You put murder at 10, and I can’t even find a place for clean underpants. If I shift the scale from 1-1000, suddenly it is. There is all that space from 11-1000 to give perspective, and clean underpants can be important again. Not important like a dead body but, you know, something I can take a few seconds and do every day.

And I can do this. I can do this and get on with the day.

It’s remarkable.

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