the conundrum of living on a razor’s edge

Oh sh*t, can you tell I am having a wonderful f*cking day?

So I have seen a vision of this reality, still convinced there must be a third option that does not demand insanity (there must be middle ground between everything anyway. The quantum energy levels may be finite, but surely they are multifarious.)

Albert stands upon the thin edge of an enormous razor blade, which floats above an endless abyss of sulfurous fire (yes, call it Hell if you will) This razor blade is exceedingly sharp, cutting into his feet inexorably (weight of gravity and all) Needless to say, something has got to give.

Now, the way I see it, Albert has three options. One, f*ck this sh*t, I’m jumping. Despair triumphs, the demons are cackling. Two: stay on the razor. Yes, eventually it’ll kill me, and it hurts like a bitch, but an unhappy long life is better than a pointless short one. Three, imagine that the sensation of metal cutting your flesh is the most exquisite pleasure of your entire life. I abbreviate this option as the insanity option.

Now, if going insane were merely a temporary proposition, a quaint way to perhaps pass the time away until things pick up, well, then I’m all for it. Knock yourself out. But in this situation, it’s pretty much an exit-only type of proposition (well, no, I guess we all know that the abyss always wins in the end, but that doesn’t really matter.) I have a hard time swallowing the idea that insanity is some sort of acceptable alternate pathway of existence.

I’ll admit though that in Albert’s extreme situation, insanity does seem like the way to go. It’s just that in real life, the choices expand to infinity (well, not really, in terms of their essential character—really just infinite variations of the three choices—but somewhat true in that the order with which you string together II and III against the backdrop of Fate/Random Chance will make a difference. It is assumed that you are forced to make these choices at every conscious moment, i.e., throughout infinitiy, or close as the human mind can get.)

And people tend to lock you up when they realize you’re insane.

I suppose it troubles me that there is no room for happiness in this bleak model of the world, but all I can say is that it is really hard to talk about something that you have almost never experienced (Hyperbole, of course. I haven’t experienced it for a while), and I have a feeling that if (when??) I do, I will have option 4 worked out. But for now, I suppose it will have to be insanity, with options.