It’s about time that I get down to it… and begin to productive… set myself up for the week and ease a transition to those sweet two days of relative freedom.
I need to calm myself somewhat. I’ve always been troubled, and when thinking about that fact today early on, it helped to ease my mind somewhat. My troubles now of a different kind, of a different calibre even. They come on me a little slower… I’d say they’re more nuanced, because really, things aren’t so bad. There doesn’t seem to be a great urgency, outside of these fleeting moments where I’m struck with a kind of existential angst that makes me question whether I shouldn’t devote my life to something more meaningful… or if I shouldn’t pack my bags and leave the next day.
I thought earlier today… it was hard for me to remember the last time I was happy, or maybe I could say satisfied. I think it was when I was in love… or when I was able to live a little freely, on my own, scribbling in a notebook in a beautiful city.
The last six years have been relative drudgery… and toil. Full of… apparent conviction, and dedication… and submission… and I suppose a deep and often lingering dissatisfaction…
When will I be satisfied and happy again? Are these the right questions? Am I building for a better future right now? I think so… I think that’s been the driving force behind so much of this work that I’ve been doing… the idea that I’m putting away for the future. Maybe I’m just a little behind the curve… a little older than I should be…
I think of how I lower myself at times. Make myself a little more meek. That I often hold my tongue and keep quiet, or act a little naive. I often play the role of the disciple, eager to learn, I suppose that’s natural and a part of climbing the rungs in an organizational structure. But still, I do wonder if there’s a difference between humility, and outright lowering of oneself to appear more… amenable to change or less threatening.
No one sees me. That’s obvious I suppose and perhaps a truism for everyone. I would have said as well “I don’t even know who I am” or… “I’m still learning about myself”.
I tell myself or… I remind myself… “things aren’t so bad”. I wonder as well if I’m not trying to convince myself, and I wonder if I believe it.
I think of the promises held out – the promises that life offers. I think of the mystery of existence, and how unlikely it is to come into life… into a conscious being… and I think of what I’m doing with this fleeting time I’ve been given. I know I should howl in pain and jump out of my skin. I sometimes feel like I’m living someone else’s dream.
Life is full of tiny little compromises and oh so pragmatic decisions… and now I’m here. It really was everything that I feared when I was younger… not too much younger even. It was as if I knew back then that I would be inevitably heading down that direction… that all my fears were just idle protestations… limp and ineffective. I could, for brief moments swim against the current, but perhaps it was written all along that I would end up something like this…
I think it’s dangerous to be resigned to one’s station. I don’t believe in resenting one’s station… because that seems like something borne out of cowardice. I know I still have options, but I wonder if I have the strength to change. Of course I do.
There’s a certain absurdity to my condition right now.
If you’re reading this, feel free to comment.