“Most humans that could ever exist, never will. So, the fact that you exist at all is against stupefying odds. Any moment you spend squandering those moments you are alive, does disrespect to those who will never even be born.”
I heard these words on a TikTok video one morning. One that came up right after an update on the horrific chemical train derailment in East Palestine, Ohio, and right before a 15-second clip of this Spanish-speaking parrot that I follow and absolutely adore.
I scroll and scroll, and scratch my tit, and scroll some more. I put my phone down for a moment to clean-up my dog Carl’s pee, which is conveniently located mere meters away from the pee-pee pad. I don’t understand why it’s so difficult for him to just pee on the fucking pad, nor do I understand how it is physically possible for this yorkie to store so much urine in his five-pound body.
I keep having these small moments where I think about the humans that will never exist and how disrespectful I have been as I get back on my couch, laggard and in the same sweatpants I’ve worn the past four nights. Only a few more minutes until my D-Amphetamines kick in and then I’ll be productive with my morning. At least that’s what I tell myself. If there is one thing I know for sure, it’s that the likeness of anything productive being done in the afternoon is, well, not likely at all. There I go again with the disrespect via squandering; it’s even more disrespectful because it’s premeditated.
On the other hand, should I wander into self-flagellation when I work my ass off and do so quite often? I teeter between “Jack-of-All-Trades” and “Spreader-of-All-Things.” I manage my time while managing to lose track of time, and then wonder where all the time has gone. If I smoke enough, I’ll ponder “what is time, really?” and when I’m sad enough, I’ll look back at all the time that I’ve wasted. I actually waste the most time during the process of all the aforementioned. It’s a sick and twisted game that I am the MVP of.
I cannot decide if my TikTok algorithm has opened my eyes to all the things I have not known about myself — and this world around me — or if the algorithm has just pulled me out of the bliss of ignoring it all for so long. I am now, more than ever, aware of all the trauma I have left unaddressed (or “on the to-do list,” as I like to put it). The awareness could be credited to my life experiences as I age or credited to TikTok. Good God, maybe even both (and many honorable mentions that go unmentioned). I can say confidently that the items filed under “unaddressed” probably wouldn’t be there without growing up in the age of “dirty laundry” — the whole don’t air the private and unpleasantries to the public lifestyle. An expression passed down from generation to generation, followed by generation to generation, and now causes intergenerational mind-fuckery to mind-fuckeries.
Sabrina Ambra is a co-host of Real Radio 104.1’s “News Junkie” program and stand-up comedian.
