Duncan Kissinger

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I remember the point in the intro to Where the Streets Have No Name by U2 would skip on my dad's copy of the CD when we would listen to it almost 20 years ago. When my sister and I knew we were passing the ice cream shop our mom would claim the sign said "closed," but it wasn't until this past year I felt lied to. There are few other early memories I remember well enough to hold fondly. It wasn't until recently I questioned the relationships between my dad and some new roommates after the divorce. Sometimes things happen so fast you develop a stutter. Sometimes you convince yourself nothing happens at once and sometimes it's better that way. Sometimes things don't change at all for a long period of time. Maybe your only growth for most of your life is physical. What if you found out that you'd spent your whole life on auto-pilot and you didn't even know there was anything to be piloting? When does the weight get so heavy on your chest that you decide to do something about it? Imagine a personified crumbling infrastructure in my clothes with my eyes and sigh at me for giving up freedom to slip away on command for the company of a dog I was too depressed to train. Associations can be toxic. In a way I'm kind of glad there's a universal rebranding of "truth" because I can justifiably ignore the science alluding to our concept of "I" is a core of neurological feedback loops projecting a presence of presence because it doesn't fit with my longing for vindication in one day occupying a dimension outside of this physical universe as it is presently understood by human scientists. It's hard watching Johnny Carson without cringing at least once from a currently socially unacceptable joke and it troubles the consideration of general acceptability as it is presently analyzed in a transformative period of universal introspection and automated curation of external stimuli. Why does anyone do anything? My experience may be similar to your experience. Does that matter? I want to find out if suicide's origins can be traced to the moment animals that didn't keep up with the pace of evolution realized they didn't share a future with their peers. I can't tell if everything is real or if nothing is real and I don't know if that's good or bad. I don't know if there's anything I can do with my life to make both my parents and my potential children proud, but at least I proudly have a record. 


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