By Michael Sito

By Michael Sito

Monday, February 19, 2018

Tortured Madness


Tortured Madness 


“There is only tortured madness here tonight.”  I told a couple of girls sitting next to me late one night after they asked if I knew what time the bar closed.

“Excuse me?  What does that mean?”  The one sitting closest responded.

“It means that the whole can of worms is going under and even though so many of us fail to see this simple fact, some of us do not.”  Sometimes I can come across about as pleasant as the Genius when he finds out that you told Pub Crawl that one of her posts “didn’t do it for me” and this was one of those times. 
I don’t mean to be a party pooper.  I just get overwhelmed by the drudgery of watching our culture implode upon itself, while the vast majority of my fellow countrymen remain ignorant or apathetic to it all.  At these times I fall into a mild despair that manifests itself with a desire to communicate with my fellow man in an effort to find something hopeful to cling to, a life preserver for the mind so to speak.

As the girls were digesting my words, I continued, “People just don’t seem to get it.  We’re all given this extraordinary gift of life and what do we do with it?  We compromise everything we are and everything that makes us unique because of some strange need to be accepted by people who, on the most part, have no idea what life is about or how to live it.  Intellectual curiosity seems to be a thing of the past, as is our ability to communicate with each other.  Instead, we hide in our phones all the time and knowingly date the wrong people who don't appreciate us or make us happy, and for what?  Comfort?  To avoid loneliness?  Where will that leave us in the end?  I don’t think content and if not, what’s the point?  There’s no taking back lost time and, looking forward, we’re all going to the same place and it's cold, dark and about six feet under. And, then, it all ends with a ego shattering whimper, as you give the world the finger for the last time and shit and piss yourself."

“Um, excuse me, but please stop talking to us.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.  I realize my mood could be a lot better…it’s been a long week and all the superficial holiday cheer got to me more than I should’ve let it.  My apologies.  I didn’t mean to intrude.”  I stopped and took a draw from my beer while looking at the portraits around the bar, so many of which are of people who are no longer among us.  Were they happy with their lives when the toll man came for them?  I didn’t want to bother the ladies with my melancholy and tried to change mental gears, but it was too late.  My thoughts were stuck on this hazardous path.  After a minute or two, I decided to try to explain myself a bit better.

“I’m sorry, but just to clarify what I was trying to get at is, what are we doing as a culture?  Where are we going?  You know, I see so many sell-outs and phonies- they’re everywhere and they’re running themselves crazy like a hamster in a wheel just trying to get through each day, each week, each month, but they’re ignoring the underlying problem and not getting anywhere.  They’re not happy with their lives, but when you ask them why they’re not changing them, they answer by referring to some vague idea of finding peace one day.  But all these people do is compromise- compromise their dreams to have companionship, compromise their lives to chase the dollar, compromise their souls for an eternal reward that will never come- what’s the point?  What’s going to happen when they get to the end of the journey only to then realize that they forgot to play their hand or, more likely, realize they folded their hand around the time they grew up and everything they did since then just compounded the same error of avoiding risk and the disappointment of others by embracing paths that only added up to personal misery in the end?  It’s ridiculous, and sad.  It seems to me that, these days, so many people are working overtime to really just avoid facing themselves and chasing their dreams.  You know, life is only as complicated as we make it and we sure seem content on making it a living hell.” 

The girls were just staring at me now, slack jawed.  I felt like I was drawing them in and making some headway with these thoughts.  I was hoping to trigger a proper discussion, so I tried to bring the masthead around to face downstream, “Personally, I’ve consciously tried to escape this fate my entire life.  I continually push myself to explore the metaphysics of my beliefs, to question everything, and to navigate toward new and unknown experiences whenever possible…and what have I got from it?- "you're really strange" or “you’re arrogant” or “please don’t talk to me.”  You know, I've heard these words more than one ever thinks he should, but I tell myself to take comfort from them.  At least I’m not a willing part of the societal anti-intellectual apathetic automaton that is all around us.  At the end of the day I take the social isolation as a badge of honor, especially when I continually see the masses ignoring the boundlessness of life by myopically focusing on such mundane and meaningless boloney.  I guess loneliness and isolation are just part of the badge, but I’d rather walk alone than walk among fools.  You know what I mean?”

“No, I don’t know what you mean.  Frankly I have no idea what you’re even talking about!”  She said and then turned to her friend, “Let’s get out of here.  This guy isn’t normal.”  They got up and left the bar.  They both looked frightened or confused, or both.  The one that was farthest from me turned around on her way out to give me another look and kind of smiled at me with sad eyes full of pity, but she didn’t say anything.

Johnny Ale came over, "Mike, what happened?  Those girls were cute."

“I don’t know.”  I shrugged my shoulders.  “I guess it was past their curfew or something.”  I finished my beer.  “Another round my friend.  You know, I think I’ll also have a shot of Malort please."


About twenty minutes later a guy and a girl came in and sat a few stools down from me.  After they ordered drinks and Johnny walked to the far end of the bar to make them, the guy looked over to me and asked, “Hey buddy, is this a cash only bar?”

“There is only tortured madness here tonight,” I told him...  


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