Essay 1/6; The Intersectionality Of Stupidity And Depression

Before I begin writing, let me warn you that this is not some funny essay. This is not funny. Depression is not funny. I mean DO NOT EXPECT TO LAUGH. If you want to laugh, go and read about feminists who want Meghan fucking Rapinoe to earn the same as Messi when she doesn't even have half the talent of Jesse bloody Lingard (and he's uniquely talentless). Don’t read this. This is an essay about a very sombre subject and as such I expect a very sombre attitude towards reading it. In fact, if you make any attempt to smile while reading this, you’re literally worse than Hitler. You get it? You're like LITERALLY like Hitler. And even worse, because even Hitler cared about Germany, or something. 

Wait. Wait. I am sure you are thinking, wow that introduction was just tongue in cheek. He is actually writing something funny and wants us to laugh ha ha Lmao laughing my anxiety out. My tongue is outside my cheek please, it is not in any cheek kan kan. I trust that we are all literate please and we can read and understand. This is a very serious essay about a very serious topic.

My name is Elewa and I am a very depressed piece of shit. Even the name Elewa means "Owner of beauty" which is just as ironic as it is depressing. And yes, I forgive you if you thought it was about beans. 

Now, why am I depressed? I assure you that this question isn’t important in the grand scheme of things. The real question is why should I not be depressed? My life is structured in such a way that the great miracle would be me not being depressed. 

Seriously! Imagine this, I am a young Nigerian student with less than minimum income, I attend the great educational institution for learning and torture called OAU, I study History (which, generally speaking, is a fucking depressing course— especially if you're an African) in the said institution (also, who knew that common history could be so damn hard? Literally no one. No one knew this. This is a giant big surprise right here. What the actual sexual intercourse!). I look like a very realistic looking Shrek, and finally I support the great heartache dispensing machine called Manchester United. So you see, the structure of my life is so decidedly aligned with depression that I should have a job as a brand ambassador. Of depression, of course.

And don’t tell me to lighten up and not be depressed and angry at life. That literally never works. That is like telling a cancer patient to just be happy and calm and that the cancerous cells would disappear. Have you ever done that? No! So don’t tell me what is not. However, I am pretty sure that one of my numerous intellectually challenged friends must have done something of the sort. I'll tell that story another time. I actually wanted to include it in this article, but my editor said I shouldn't use my friend's name to chase clout. 

So. Hm. 

Ordinarily, depression should be something that makes one tired and unwilling to wake up in the morning. But here is where I am evidently different. I want to wake up in the morning and go out. Why, you ask me. Why would I want to that? The answer is actually rather simple. The answer is “stupidity”. 

How?

Here, let me give you something resembling a mathematical equation. My need to be depressed is lower than my need to witness stupidity. This equation is D < S. D here means depression (even though it's clearly as hard as the other thing) and S means stupidity. In case you are a dimwit like many other people (don’t worry, you are certainly not alone in your dim-wittedness. You have some sterling comrades), this equation simply means my need to see and experience stupidity in this world is higher than my need to sleep on my bed and do nothing. That is, my only remaining motivation in this world is the need to see stupid people. Why? Because for some weird and conceited reason it makes me feel a little better about myself. You know, the old “wow I’m stupid but not as stupid as this guy!”. 

Yes, I have heard that this behaviour is unhealthy and sad and I should get help. But this advice mostly comes from people who also indulge in unhealthy and sad activities like reading overnight and wearing crocs and dating girls who live in Maintenance but do they see me pontificating about it? Hypocrites. 

So where was i? Yes, my need to see stupid people in their natural habitat. Think of this as my natural high. And if witnessing stupidity gives me a high, people become my cocaine. Now, the question arises, what does an addict do? An addict tries to get an everlasting supply of his product. This is where I am a bit fortunate. You see, Nigeria, and OAU in particular, is blessed with people gifted in the art of stupidity. Consequently, I have a lot of stupid friends (who also have stupid friends) who never disappoint me with their acts of irrationality. I am very serious. Girls, boys, men, women, amphibians, you name it! I know them all and they are remarkably stupid. If stupidity were an Olympic sport, the people I know would be too stupid to win one. And in a weird conceited way, this makes me less depressed. 

I guess you could call this the burden of knowledge. Like a great philosopher who once sacrificed half of everything for what he believed in said “You’re not the only one cursed with knowledge”. Oh Thanos, what a man. 

Anyway, you get the point. Like Thanos, I am cursed with knowledge and this allows me to see the various creative forms that stupidity takes in the lives of boys and girls. 

And in a roundabout way, this makes me happy.

So what is the point of this essay? People often say that you can pray depression away (I am serious. I legitimately heard that from an actual living human being. I wanted to ask her if she was dropped one too many times on the head as a child, but I said nothing. The reason I said nothing is totally unrelated to the fact that she had big breasts and a vagina though, so don’t think such dirty thoughts. Also, she lives in Maintenance, and I'm depressed, not a fucking retard). Or that it can leave with meditation. But I have found a simple, easy and cheap way; witnessing stupidity. 

Perhaps you should try it sometime. 

Like and subscribe to my channel if you enjoyed— oh, this is not YouTube. Totally forgot. Oh well. If you liked this article and would like to purchase a ticket to hell, read the other articles below. See you!