Death Valley by Melissa Broder EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author:Melissa Broder
- Language: English
- Genre: Humorous Literary Fiction
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
I pull into the desert town at sunset feeling empty. I felt empty the whole
drive from Los Angeles and hoped that my arrival would alleviate the
emptiness, so when the emptiness is not alleviated, not even momentarily (all
emptiness-alleviators are temporary), I feel emptier.
“Help me not be empty,” I say to god in the Best Western parking lot.
Since I don’t turn to god very often, I feel self-conscious when I do. I’m not
sure what I’m allowed to ask for, and I worry that I shouldn’t want the things I
want. Are my requests too specific? I should probably ask to simply be happy
doing god’s will, though I’ve heard it said that when you’re doing god’s will
you feel like you’re flowing with a great river, not against it, so it seems like
the happy feeling should just come naturally.
Earlier today, a friend texted me a quote by Kierkegaard: “Life is not a
problem to be solved, but a reality to be experienced.”
Ordinarily, I’d do nothing more than mark this kind of text message with a
heart, maybe respond with the word yesss, and move on. But because of the
low place I’ve been in, I saw the quote as a life raft, as though I were a small
version of me adrift in a bowl of milk and the quote was the lone Cheerio I
had to grab onto.
Halfway between LA and the desert town, I stopped at a Circle K to pee
and get some beef jerky. On the public toilet, I tried to meditate using the
Kierkegaard quote as a mantra, but the quote only made me feel worse. I
realized that I was doing the exact opposite of what the quote suggested:
trying to solve a problem, the problem of me and my mood, rather than just
experiencing it. But how do you just experience things?
In addition to the beef jerky (Jack Link’s brand, Sweet & Hot) I bought a
large cup of black coee and two cans of Red Bull Sugarfree—a decision that
is now coming back to haunt me in the motel parking lot. Some bad
electricity is going down in my nervous system, and I can’t tell what’s
caeine-induced sensitivity and what could be a real physical problem. When
I look at the glowing blue WELCOME sign, it appears to be vibrating.
The Best Western is at the edge of town, and beyond it lies nothingness: a
desolate stretch of sand and rock, peppered with dead brush, all the way to the
hills. I play it fake cool to the dust, casually unloading my black duel from the
trunk. But my hands are trembling.
Am I dying?
This thought triggers an unexpected surge of tenderness, as though I am a
child who needs comforting.
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