Then there's the whole problem of choice. Goddamit. We like to think having choices makes us happy. But we now know the great paradox about that, don't we? That the more choices we have, in general, the less happy we seem to be. Because there's the fear of making the "wrong" choice. And there's the regret that comes with making a bad one. And, of course, in a certain time and place, every choice can seem like a bad one. At root, I think is the illusion of control we like to maintain—that we have power over our lives and that our choices give us this power. That we determine our fate, in part, through the decisions we make. And shit, when you think of it like that, it's paralyzing, isn't it?

It's why I like to feel the burden of self-imposed boundaries. It's also why I like to be addicted to things. Because when you're addicted to things, when you set up boundaries for yourself, you remove the element of choice from your day. When you're operating under compulsion, you take away the risk of making the wrong decision. Because it's already been made. Long ago. And now you're just carrying through, brother. These pills. This drink. I'm good at the carry-through.

It's warmer today. There's an undertone of spring in the cool March air. And Moses and I are grilling free-range chicken in my back yard. He spits in the grass and takes a drag on a fat cigar. Honey is next to us waiting for the drop of deliciousness that's sure to come. We drink our beer and watch the blue sky and feel the cool afternoon air against our faces.

"Maybe I suffer from a lack of emotion," I tell him.

"Maybe you're deciding not to choose," says Moses. "How's that working out for you?"

Category: Moses