Cleaning out my old apartment and paging through words that I wrote when I was wide and wild-eyed really opened me up and made some things incredibly obvious to me. While there’s little opportunity for me to return to the reckless (read-irresponsible) imaginings that emptied pen ink all over those pages, the underlying excitement needs a kickstart.
First, I found that I’ve lost sight of what I want to accomplish or what I want to do with my life. I’ve let everything around me consume and occupy a good portion of who I am. This is not to say that I don’t have and take advantage of my time or appreciate what’s around me. I don’t enough. But my equilibrium is jacked. And that makes it as unfair to everyone, especially the most important people around me, as it does to myself.
That’s my most recent wake the fuck up realization.
One of the things that I’ve always wanted was expertise and mastery of something. Of anything actually. And I don’t have that. I don’t seek it. I rarely think about it.
Instead, following the ebb and flow of hours, days, weeks, and months is easier and requires less fight and vigor. Requiring less of yourself when necessary is understandable but making it a habit makes you passionless. Dead. Boring.
And secondly, it is becoming more and more obvious that, besides God, I need to find something that I believe in. That’s it. With little explanation the vanilla dust that coats my existence is starting to cake.