Grocery Shopping With Infinite Jest I'm grocery shopping and I think of David Foster Wallace. I cringe, why was he so right, Why'd he have to kill himself? His speech about the fish in This Is Water Struck a chord, but then he killed himself, so I don't know if he killed himself because He couldn't stop thinking And wouldn't just be bored, Or if he was just depressed and sick? He was on meds for most of his adult life, But was that because he couldn't suck it up, Wanted everything to be perfect, but Since he's not capable of perfection Took himself out of the equation? Or did he just have clinical depression? I'm mostly happy but sometimes I'm not And sometimes I am stuck behind a cart That's stuck behind a cart, and sometimes I'm stuck in these kinds of thoughts Out of fear that I may succumb To some greater truth that maybe he found out. Why did he have to be the recent great of my Time, why couldn't Pynchon or Faulkner be closer? I can't stop staring at David Foster Wallace. I can't be a writer full time, don't want to be. I need to stop thinking this way, so inside myself. Music and physics and people help Me keep from isolating myself That's why I'm an engineer, Why I'm in school to become one, I mean. But I still can't stop my mind from running Sometimes to the dark truths that I Often think are deep truths. Maybe, The Truth is that these truths are made In social contexts and philosophy, And are just made. And are still true,
But are no truer than other truths. I'm grabbing for some mac and cheese That's going to be so good for dinner; I keep walking and keep thinking About the juxtaposition between His words and his life. My question is: Could he not live them, Or can no one live them? To always focus is impossible, But should I try to as much as I can? Hard-work ideals eat away at my sanity, I feel them taking, but should I Maximize my contribution to the world At cost of my own health? He says I get to choose, but what to choose And how to choose it? Circumstance: Should I get bacon? High cholesterol Is in my family, but it's so tasty And I'm going vegetarian once I get back to school So I should eat it while I can. Is it worth the calories and CO2? Maybe not But I can only think so much About this before I get stuck In worn out thoughts, I’ll come back Later and use instinct. I wonder what he was thinking with the gun in his mouth Or the rope around his neck, he who spoke so clearly And with so much self-doubt, The voice of postmodernism did what irony does And reduced himself to naught. But he knew what irony does So where does that leave us? Where does that leave me? Magritte didn't kill himself, was he Happy like I am? I truly am Happy, except when I get bored I get dramatic, think about The Null.
And I am overwhelmingly bored here. I should get some yogurt, Fagé brand I grab it and it feels cool in my hand. I see and think about all these people And how they are all doing the same shit That I am and that Chicago is so busy. I shouldn't have gone shopping at 5 o'clock, I should've known better. It's not like I do anything with my days except write Poetry and my book and think and watch Netflix and wait For school to start and for my life to begin again. I want a happy and productive life But foremost I just want to be happy Then to help others as much as I can. I can be happy, just not living this Stolid summer break in a new town Writing all the time to put off pain Unable to improve it, just to wait And murder time until school starts again. School. Where work is hard but nondestructive, Creative but without destroying me To fit me on a page. Where I have friends. Writing keeps me on my toes, but Engineering keeps me in the world. It calls to me, this type of love Will breed contentment, not just passion, So I will seek it out. We writers always find what isn’t right, We engineers will fix what doesn’t work, I will find and make a happy life. I think That irony has no substance And relies upon that which it ridicules. Without a culture there is no counter, But the counter is often made to be
Absorbed into the culture. Making change Is largely living as you hope That others will and telling them How you live it. Just make The moral food you’d want to buy And others like you will Soon buy from you. Hopefully We will learn to treat all people as their own, As vivid things of wants, desires: whole. I should get cheese. American? I wonder if American cheese Is American cheese in Switzerland Or Cameroon or Swaziland. I wonder if people in Britain Bemoan their government as much as Americans: Young people, hipsters, postmodernists Believing in Nothing but not knowing That they really believe in something. Otherwise They would go the route that he did. Camus said “The only serious philosophical problem Is suicide, the rest is commentary”: Walking down an aisle I see me In others walking, slowly I am Freed from my internal by my sight And others living more than lonely, Then, I see I can always look like this. The joy from all these little narratives Surpasses words, is what poetics was Invented for. And David Foster Wallace Nudged me here. It will get better. When grabbing gouda thoughts assail me: life Is better when assumed, Thereby allowed; And life just is, it is not just, But it is part what we can choose; And death is only naught from here Because as life we are so much; And we are only life and death, But we get to be life!
A year formed into minutes, I Grew slowly from the rage at him To seeing that he lived his life As best he could. In grocery stores I constantly considered him, His graceful trick of telling these Hopeful origin stories as A way to help you through the day. I could not fathom that the man Who thought of this would have denied Himself the pleasure, but he has. There is no knowing what he thought, There’s only seeing what he did And he did kill himself, but I Am not him. I’ll choose for myself. The world is as it is and we Are just some lives, these little words Can’t show you what a food is, but Can show its color, shape or size. And we can choose each for ourselves What we will eat, so I will find My favorites and eat them more. That may be all there is to do, In any case, I’m fine with it. I’ll treat myself And buy the bacon, I Could use the lift, I've made my choice. Life is better with a little savor But life is sweet so I will let it be Delicious.
The checkout line is long, and I pull out my phone and write,
And quantify and say goodbye to what was once my life.