I should get down do it.
Really, there isn’t too much pressing at the moment, but there is a fair bit of work looming on the horizon. I’ll get it done in good time, although I may drag my ass I suppose. I’m tired of giving over so much of myself, and I know… or I feel those above me will only ask for more, the more I put in.
I count down the days before we’re all allowed to leave this place. I look on my coming freedom and I want to guard the time ahead against any encroachment, guard it jealously. I know there will be more work ahead of course, and I suppose it is a little daunting.
I thought earlier, half thankfully, that the work was indeed challenging – learning this new content that I’d in many cases long forgotten. I think the content that I learn though is scarcely relevant my life experience, and it’s somewhat hollow and meaningless because of that. “There are infinite number of factually accurate statements that can be made”. I heard this in a Jordan Peterson lecture on “Why Students Fall Asleep in Class”. The physics that I learn right now doesn’t exactly elucidate or provide me with greater clarity. I’d much rather be turning over philosophy textbooks and treatises from past thinkers.
There’s little in me stirring otherwise… which is enough to make a little fearful. I wonder what I’ll be assailed with next, how I’ll be pulled out of myself, or what inner battle I’ll soon wage.
I don’t really have an audience here… although some people stumble upon this site from time to time. I haven’t cultivated an online presence and I don’t write for Search Engine Optimization. It’s not a farce… I don’t think it is at least. It keeps me writing I suppose and… beyond any utilitarian means, I suppose these words will provide something of a record for the future. A record of what I was able in each moment to recount to a public audience, what I wanted to share in each moment and what I felt I needed to… in one way or another.
I’m growing old… I know I am. Sometimes it’s frightening… and it does add a little urgency to my actions.
When I was younger, when in great turmoil… I feared the time when I wouldn’t bothered by meaning… or a lack of meaning rather. I feared the time when I wouldn’t ask for meaning, or when I wouldn’t be plagued by a lack of meaning in my life; when I would be able to get of bed and proceed through the day without asking great existential questions… Of course I suppose it’s no victory to be completely immobilized by these questions. Maybe I’m just more pragmatic now… although it’s hard for me to justify the compromises I feel I’ve made without a little bite of conscience.
I’m on a more definite path… and on sure footing… relatively. I don’t think I’m really hanging by a thread… but although I feel I may be moving forward and making progress, I also feel my life slipping away in perhaps a more delicate or subtle way… that perhaps these compromises have robbed me of something more ethereal, and that I am in some sense squandering or turning away from the miracle of life, form the tremendous gift of life…
I know the chance of being here is infinitesimally small… I believe it to be at least… and that everything… everything in the universe had to align just as it did to bring about the circumstances in which I would come into the world… and that with the tiniest alteration I wouldn’t be here.
Perhaps I could have been a little more brave and a little more courageous in pushing through with my own desires… and a lot less fickle and indecisive… Maybe I’ve still yet to land upon any truth that I could devote myself or give myself over to absolutely.
I don’t know who I write to or why I write…
I wonder how the past has changed me… and what kind of burden I still may carry, and what scars I have.
I wonder if I like to be tragic… but of course life is, if you have your ear to the ground. Life is as well nothing short of the most fantastic miracle, but it’s also immensely tragic. Conscious beings, born into the world, without any truth, living out a temporal existence – that’s extremely frightening… and of course to simply state the fact doesn’t quite open up the sheer terror of living out this truth…
The weather is warming up and I’d like to shed some pounds… I can no longer call myself a young Adonis, but I do enjoy the admiring eye… *the thought is enough to make a laugh a little.
I feel I’ve run out of things to say, and I really should get to work. Thank you dear friends for reading…