You Just Keep Blaming All Your Problems on Something Else

It’s time to take your medications.

“Hey mini-me, how do you think people made it by back in the day without popping so many pills?”

Taking regulated medications to solve ailments is a relatively modern idea and a sign of the modern enlightened understand-

“Forget I asked about it, it’s not like you actually think about the issue, you just regurgitate whatever you were programmed with.”

Sure thing! Is there anything else I can help you with?

The mini-me bounced around his vision, a little 2-D animated version of himself. It was cartoonish, an idealized and stylized design based on his physical features. Instead of his matted, uncombed white hair it had its cut in an intentionally messy, spiky way, perfect for the cartoon aesthetic. His gloomy features and the bags under his eyes were replaced by a grin, and sparkling, large cartoon eyes that seemed to take in everything with wonder. The mini-me bounced about his vision with child-like whimsy, unlike his hunched, shuffling gait. It jumped about mocking him, laughing at his inability to leave reality for the two-dimensional.

Your shift starts in 30 minutes.

Liam’s body began to move, his arm reaching out for a bottle, his mouth opening, a pill going down. His legs flexed, pushed himself up, and stumbled him into the bathroom. He messily splashed water onto his face, feeling each cold drop trailing down his pale skin. They ran their little paths, so full of purpose, before suddenly falling off and flattening themselves on the counter. He toggled a switch on his left eye, watching as in an instant all the handsome features of his face were accentuated and all the ugliness was hidden. The hard lines and sharp edges of his jaw and gaunt cheeks were accented, made into something attractive, something flawless and beautiful. His tired eyes and their concerningly large bags were replaced with something interesting, a cold aloofness that spoke of hidden depths rather than uncountable sleepless nights. He became a little like his mini-me, but it was all superficial, easily erased with the flip of a switch.

He set out for the train station, taking his time and slowly ambling through the upper eaves of the city not yet awake.

Congratulations! You’re leaving for work early today without prompting!

“It’s strange, isn’t it, I think I’d rather be there than at home.”

He paused on the bridge before the station, switching off his metal eye to take in the view of the city without its digital railings getting in the way. They were cleaning up something on the ground beneath him again, the air was staler than ever, the city more gray and depressing. He had the sudden, manic urge to leap off the bridge, to fly up into the air with a wild grin plastered over his face before nose diving towards the ground, laughing, and prove that—prove, what, exactly? Maybe it was to flatten himself on the pavement, to compress himself into two-dimensions and prove to his mini-me that he too could become a cartoon character free from the burdens of flesh.

Liam stepped back from the edge of the bridge, flipping his eye back open so the walls reappeared. Time to go to work. The Union soldiers and officials would begin appearing soon.

Andrew was, for the first time, late. The kid had always been early, always punctual, but this time Liam was already cleaning by the time he showed up

“Don’t follow me to the tee,” quipped Liam.

“Oh—uh—right, uh, sorry about that, I just haven’t been feeling that well, and-and some of the—uh—jobs I applied to messaged back,” the kid seemed rather ashamed of his conduct, nervously unable to make eye contact. His posture and expression were zombie-like, exhausted. There was a shakiness to his feet as if the night before was still haunting him. He didn’t look well, but it was probably better not to fixate on that too much; it’s not like Liam would be able to do anything about it.

“Any luck?” inquired Liam.

“Not yet, no one even asked for an interview. It’s a bit embarrassing honestly, getting turned down by the automated systems.”

“Everything’s automated nowadays. If you get hired they probably won’t even look for an interview. Just keep looking, you’re not gonna get a job if you don’t work for it.”

“Ya think so?” laughed Andrew nervously, “I’m beginning to think otherwise…”

“It might take a thousand tries, but just don’t give up like me.”

“A thousand?”

“Yeah, no one’s gonna be looking for you, so you have to keep asking ‘till you find someone willing to take you.”

“But a thousand’s absurd!”

“It ain’t over ‘til you commit to being a janitor for the rest of your life, so don’t give up on it.”

Andrew shook his head.

“They’ll probably fire me after the Union officials leave, and besides, this salary’s not enough to pay for rent, student loans, and living expenses! I don’t know how I’m gonna make this month’s bill as is!”

“Ya bite the bullet, take on debt and start slashing your expenses as much as you can. Commit to the long game and save everywhere you can. Everyone’s trying to scam you and tell you that you can save money by doing this or that, but just do the math and you can figure something out. You’d be surprised by how little you actually need to live with.”

“Is that how you live? It sounds miserable to sacrifice everything just to save cash!”

“Yeah, it **** sucks, but well, hmm, what do you think it means to live?”

This is a public area, crude language is prohibited.

“What?”

“Just answer the question.”

“Where’s this coming from?”

“I guess I’ve been doin’ too much thinking. But, well, I’d like to hear your thoughts. What does it mean to live? Is a person alive if they sacrifice everything in pursuit of a goal and are miserable as a result, or is sacrificing everything for a goal, no matter how fleeting, what it means to be alive?”

“I’m not sure I understand where you’re going with this.”

“I’m not sure either. It’s probably best to stop thinking about it, but I can’t get it out of my head. What does it mean to be alive? What separates me from a dead man at the bottom of a bridge? I do the same thing day in and day out emotionlessly, and he lays there day in and day out just as unfeeling.”

“That’s a depressing line of thought.”

“I think my cynical pessimism should have been obvious by now.”

Andrew thought for a moment, “Well, you’re breathing, and your heart still beats, that’s a pretty big difference.”

“Sure, until Me-Tech comes out with a replacement for those.”

“You can still think and feel.”

“Sure, but does that really count for anything? If all my thoughts and feelings amount to nothing, then what’s the difference between being dead or alive?”

“Well… uh… You still have the potential to change. That’s the difference! The dead man’s reached his final state, but you still have a chance to change yours!”

“But how does one change their state? What chance does one have to change anything? I’m stuck forever as a cog slowly being ground down with no way to change that fact. I hope you can get a job, kid, something other than being a janitor forever.”

“Are you, um, are you okay? You’re not usually so, uh—”

“Depressing? Med change from the doctor, don’t worry ‘bout it. It was ‘sposed to help but, well, pills have never fixed the fact that I’m able to think.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry about it. I’m just a sentimental old man projecting myself onto you. I should be the one worried about you, not the other way ‘round.”

“I’m… fine,” said Andrew, “I’ll make sure to show up on time tomorrow!”

“On that note, you should probably stop slacking off.”

“Right!” replied Andrew, rushing to gather his supplies.

Another day passed and another day lost. The uncomfortable feeling had come back to haunt Liam as he walked home. The nagging hollowness, a feeling that something fundamental was missing.

“Hey mini-me, what do you think it means to live?”

Living is the state of-

“Not the definition of being alive, but what it means to be living.”

I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you mean! Please repeat your question!

Liam sighed, some people could talk to their mini-me’s all day, but it didn’t do it for him. It never felt right, it never felt real. Talking to it couldn’t assuage the empty feeling, not like talking to a flesh and blood human could.

“It’s not like you get it, do you."

You’re going through some difficult circumstances, but I am here to help! One thing to keep in mind from your doctor-

You just keep blaming all your problems on something else.