I believe the real key to this problem is to realize that it's no problem at all. Stop searching. Peace will come. Pleasure will come. They will both leave you in their own time as well. Because they are both part and parcel to human existence. As is suffering and happiness and despair and joy and anger and sorrow and love and forgiveness. When an emotion hits us, it's easy to feel as though "this feeling" will last forever. It will not. Nothing does. Acknowledge it, savor it even, if it's positive, but understand that all of these emotional states are ephemeral and fleeting. Based on momentary situational circumstances and brain chemistry. Acknowledge, but with the understanding that before long this feeling's opposite will be your companion. It's all temporary. In the end we die and we should count ourselves lucky to have been aware of any pleasure or peace. Or even pain for that matter. Stop searching and let them all come and go as they will.

Kaufman often writes these long, rambling, neurotic, overly honest, stream of consciousness segments. So here goes-

I remember all too clearly. It was my birthday, 5 years old. Mom had made me a cake with a Ninja Turtle on it. I was upset because she combined the characters of Michelangelo and Raphael (my favorite) into one turtle holding a Sai and dressed in orange. My childish inner monologue already knew this was embarrassing but I had to let it slide, especially since there wouldn't be anyone else there who could tell the difference anyway. NO OTHER KIDS. NONE. At a five year old's birthday "party." Just adults. My parents, a couple aunts and most importantly (for my parents), my Dad's parents. This was the first, and as it would turn out - only, time they would visit the house that my mom and dad had worked so hard to turn into a home they could be proud of. I'm not sure if it was because they didn't like their own son, his wife and their grandchild (me) or if they just couldn't be bothered to make the half hour drive. Either way, it was big for my folks that they would be making an appearance.

Everything was going well, too. I had greeted them at the door, impressed them with my manners. Mom's baking skills (even with her lack of Turtle knowledge) had scored a lot of points. The other guests showed that they had a thriving social life, even if I didn't. And Dad got to show them he was becoming successful, making some money. Enough to buy me a brand new Nintendo. Yeah, the classic Nintendo, the NES, I'm old, shut up. Not just that, but we could play Mario Bros. AND Duck Hunt on HIS new big screen TV. Let that sink in. For MY birthday, he got me a Nintendo and himself a new television. Both just to impress his asshole parents. Of course, I only realize the strange psychology of the situation while looking back. At the time, I was so happy I could've died.

It was all going swimmingly. I got other presents from other people. I'm sure they even brought me something but I can't really remember anything but the Nintendo. Everyone ate and drank and I spent most of the time ignoring everyone and playing the game. And who was last to leave? My grandparents! They were so impressed by the evening that they stuck around to talk to Mom and Dad for like an hour after everyone else had gone. But this is where it goes wrong.

They're all saying their goodbyes and my folks are getting compliments on how well they're doing and how they might decide to visit more often and what a good child they're raising. And if they had left five minutes earlier, all that may have stood. Unfortunately, they stuck around a little too long, because this is where I run up and interrupt and tell them all "I have a tail!"

They all laugh and say "What? You have a tail? What an imagination!"

Then I say, " I DO have a tail! Look!" Then I pull my pants down and show them the huge TURD sticking out of my butt.

Yeah. That's right.

I shit myself and then showed it to them, bragged about it even.

It shocked my grandparents to their core and embarrassed my Dad so much he had no idea what to say. I mean, come on, five-year-olds shit their pants now and again, right?

My grandparents never came back, my parents never threw me another birthday party and I don't think my father ever forgave me.

This is my earliest memory and it's honestly a microcosm of my whole life since. Just when everything is going really well, I embarrass myself and everyone around me. Thus turning the whole situation - to shit.

I'm not sure why

Vodka is so good

Drink until I die?

Just like papa said I would

I'm really not sure why

I always feel this pull

To drink to destroy

Can't stop now, I'm full

I'm just not sure why

Last night comes in flashes

My cigarette, my friendships

My life is in ashes

I meant what I said

At the time, didn't I?

I must have, but the problem,

I'm just not sure why