I Talk to Myself
About a decade ago, out for a walk, I wanted to get a snack from a vending machine. Not just anything, but specifically a Snickers bar and a can of regular Coca-Cola, I like what I like. I checked my pockets for change, and to my disappointment found only enough for one of the two. I decided to go with the can, but when I opened the valve to grab it something else was also there. It was a Snickers bar. This was without a doubt the single greatest moment of my life.
Now, why was this so amazing? Because this was the only time in my life (that I can remember anyway) where I magically got what I wanted without having to do anything. I've always found life to be very draining, both physically and emotionally. For any kind of shit to get done, a significant investment has to be made. Sometimes (and if your life is great, often) this process can be enjoyable, but time and energy are always required, both finite resources.
Do I want to magically get the things I want? Of course, any sane person would. But I don't mind putting in time and effort either, given a worthy cause. The trouble lies mostly in distinguishing what is worth this time and effort and what isn't, given the scarcity of said resources. I'm sad to say that I've had disappointing results with many different projects and people, meaning I've found them not to really be worth my time and effort.
As a result of this, I do very little and interact with very few people, paradoxically leaving me with an abundance of time (and to a lesser extent, energy) that remains unused. Whenever I think about a possible activity or interaction, I tend to check my data to categorize it and all too often it fits a column where I already decided that the juice was not worth the squeeze, so to speak. Then I don't do it, because I trust my past self (at least to some extent).
Maybe you can see where this is going. In a way I'm trapped. I've gotten so good at seeing patterns, trivialising differences, and being borderline judgmental that basically every new person I meet or activity I consider checks a bunch of boxes I don't like. A hopeless cynic, or a bitter old man, some would say. Maybe they'd have a point, but honestly I don't really know a way out. I can't magically enjoy things again, re-discover my inner child and look at the world with wonder, it doesn't work like that. I know, and knowledge is the death of wonder.
Well, at least I wasn't able to talk myself out of writing this crap. Of course, I might still delete it later, which would also be very much in character. That's the problem really, everything I do is in character. I'm so hopelessly myself that I can never feel anything else.
Now, why was this so amazing? Because this was the only time in my life (that I can remember anyway) where I magically got what I wanted without having to do anything. I've always found life to be very draining, both physically and emotionally. For any kind of shit to get done, a significant investment has to be made. Sometimes (and if your life is great, often) this process can be enjoyable, but time and energy are always required, both finite resources.
Do I want to magically get the things I want? Of course, any sane person would. But I don't mind putting in time and effort either, given a worthy cause. The trouble lies mostly in distinguishing what is worth this time and effort and what isn't, given the scarcity of said resources. I'm sad to say that I've had disappointing results with many different projects and people, meaning I've found them not to really be worth my time and effort.
As a result of this, I do very little and interact with very few people, paradoxically leaving me with an abundance of time (and to a lesser extent, energy) that remains unused. Whenever I think about a possible activity or interaction, I tend to check my data to categorize it and all too often it fits a column where I already decided that the juice was not worth the squeeze, so to speak. Then I don't do it, because I trust my past self (at least to some extent).
Maybe you can see where this is going. In a way I'm trapped. I've gotten so good at seeing patterns, trivialising differences, and being borderline judgmental that basically every new person I meet or activity I consider checks a bunch of boxes I don't like. A hopeless cynic, or a bitter old man, some would say. Maybe they'd have a point, but honestly I don't really know a way out. I can't magically enjoy things again, re-discover my inner child and look at the world with wonder, it doesn't work like that. I know, and knowledge is the death of wonder.
Well, at least I wasn't able to talk myself out of writing this crap. Of course, I might still delete it later, which would also be very much in character. That's the problem really, everything I do is in character. I'm so hopelessly myself that I can never feel anything else.
41-45
