Tuesday 19 November 2013
Points of Reference
These are all points for myself to look back to and remember who I was at the time. If you can truly write without inhibition about yourself, your fears, worries, strengths and weaknesses, it will give you a better understanding of yourself in that time, and it will give you something for the future to know you improved yourself.
Cogs
I try to think ahead of myself, probably a bit less than I should, obsessing about past mistakes and discrepancies which waste so much time that I could put towards something positive and life affirming? Yes, I'm sure that's exactly what I'd use the extra time for... Alas, letting my mind wonder seems to be something that brings equal amounts of pain and understanding to multiple aspects of my life, which mostly seems like I don't have a grasp with what I'm doing, and currently and quite honestly I look forward and see such uncertainty and change that I can't organise any effort to combat it.
Looking at other people's life, their plans and aspirations, they seem so simple, or at the very least they have an understanding of themselves, I long for that. I feel lost, I feel like I spend my time thinking and focusing on things that everyone else can ignore, or just don't find any interest for. I'm not talking about the 'Meaning of Life' or anything pseudo-meaningful like that, the meaning of my life is to be happy, the meaning of all life is personal to each and every one of us, so there's no need to sit around playing with it. The things that I seem to fixate on now are people's behaviour, and the things that cause certain actions, how I'm supposed to make a life that I'm happy with, and generally how unfathomably huge, stupid complex and fascinating space is. These are just some of the things that circle around in my head that I've pulled down for examples, every single day there's something new to focus on.
I'm guessing the point of the last two paragraphs filled with poorly worded ramblings, is that I'm not struggling to function in some 'Cry for help' fashion, but in some way I'm finding it difficult to live my life day to day and not question simple aspects of living that everyone else seems happy with. I'm sure it all bases itself in a fear that once I finally have something I've been wanting, I'll move on to the next thing and never be completely happy with what I've got.
Looking at other people's life, their plans and aspirations, they seem so simple, or at the very least they have an understanding of themselves, I long for that. I feel lost, I feel like I spend my time thinking and focusing on things that everyone else can ignore, or just don't find any interest for. I'm not talking about the 'Meaning of Life' or anything pseudo-meaningful like that, the meaning of my life is to be happy, the meaning of all life is personal to each and every one of us, so there's no need to sit around playing with it. The things that I seem to fixate on now are people's behaviour, and the things that cause certain actions, how I'm supposed to make a life that I'm happy with, and generally how unfathomably huge, stupid complex and fascinating space is. These are just some of the things that circle around in my head that I've pulled down for examples, every single day there's something new to focus on.
I'm guessing the point of the last two paragraphs filled with poorly worded ramblings, is that I'm not struggling to function in some 'Cry for help' fashion, but in some way I'm finding it difficult to live my life day to day and not question simple aspects of living that everyone else seems happy with. I'm sure it all bases itself in a fear that once I finally have something I've been wanting, I'll move on to the next thing and never be completely happy with what I've got.
Wednesday 30 October 2013
"It’s all building towards something."
"Sooner or later, I’ll do something with myself and make my mark, but until then whatever I do is not a waste of time, it’s all building towards something."
Is it though? The way I see it, thinking like that is a way to comfort yourself, to let your mind rest on the cluster of facts and thoughts that you have every day that you still haven't done anything with yourself, even though 10 years ago you were constantly being told you could be anything, do anything, live the life you wanted providing you worked for it. What a shame it is that at that point I had no idea what I wanted to do in my life and barely knew what I wanted to do the next day, let alone a few years down the line which ultimately was supposed to be so decisive that you were planning out your entire life with genuine happiness.
If only I understood that your wants change constantly as you age, that you lose people and pull away from people that you once cared, or still care for. How could I be so naive and childish to ignore the idea that while you grow up your brain is what drives you, and it seems to me like what holds me back. I'm not scared of failing, in anything I try, whatever the risk it's probably worth a go once at least, right? While I have that mind state, the world terrifies me, my own mind worries me, I don't enjoy doing things I used to do, and that's change that I can't anticipate so it bothers me.
I spend most of my days laughing, trying to pull whatever bit of amusement or happiness out of it I can, and it seems to work because it keeps me occupied for the time I'm there, but once I'm on my own, I can't escape the feeling in the back of my mind that whatever I do, I'll never be happy. That if I take one path in life, I'll long for the other thing that I didn't choose, that if I settled down with a family and had kids, I'd want to go travelling round the world as some sort of vagrant that only had a guitar, camera and a few possessions to my name. I can't decide what I'll want in my future and I probably won't know until I get there.
I'm worried about preserving parts of my past as memories in case I forget them, I'm scared of losing myself in something that I can't control, that's why I like pictures, I like having physical evidence of memories I love because I worry that one day I won't remember them. I like to write because it leaves behind etchings that maybe I can read in the future and think 'What the hell was I going on about?' and laugh at my past self, seeing how idiotic I was being.
I desperately want to be someone, to do something that matters, and every day I wake up and realise that I thought I'd be doing that a couple of years ago and that I'm still not doing it, and it depresses me. All I pursue in life is to be happy, surely that's the meaning of it all, to wake up in the morning with a smile on your face and to lay down at night knowing your day today was great, and tomorrow will more than likely be the same?
Is it though? The way I see it, thinking like that is a way to comfort yourself, to let your mind rest on the cluster of facts and thoughts that you have every day that you still haven't done anything with yourself, even though 10 years ago you were constantly being told you could be anything, do anything, live the life you wanted providing you worked for it. What a shame it is that at that point I had no idea what I wanted to do in my life and barely knew what I wanted to do the next day, let alone a few years down the line which ultimately was supposed to be so decisive that you were planning out your entire life with genuine happiness.
If only I understood that your wants change constantly as you age, that you lose people and pull away from people that you once cared, or still care for. How could I be so naive and childish to ignore the idea that while you grow up your brain is what drives you, and it seems to me like what holds me back. I'm not scared of failing, in anything I try, whatever the risk it's probably worth a go once at least, right? While I have that mind state, the world terrifies me, my own mind worries me, I don't enjoy doing things I used to do, and that's change that I can't anticipate so it bothers me.
I spend most of my days laughing, trying to pull whatever bit of amusement or happiness out of it I can, and it seems to work because it keeps me occupied for the time I'm there, but once I'm on my own, I can't escape the feeling in the back of my mind that whatever I do, I'll never be happy. That if I take one path in life, I'll long for the other thing that I didn't choose, that if I settled down with a family and had kids, I'd want to go travelling round the world as some sort of vagrant that only had a guitar, camera and a few possessions to my name. I can't decide what I'll want in my future and I probably won't know until I get there.
I'm worried about preserving parts of my past as memories in case I forget them, I'm scared of losing myself in something that I can't control, that's why I like pictures, I like having physical evidence of memories I love because I worry that one day I won't remember them. I like to write because it leaves behind etchings that maybe I can read in the future and think 'What the hell was I going on about?' and laugh at my past self, seeing how idiotic I was being.
I desperately want to be someone, to do something that matters, and every day I wake up and realise that I thought I'd be doing that a couple of years ago and that I'm still not doing it, and it depresses me. All I pursue in life is to be happy, surely that's the meaning of it all, to wake up in the morning with a smile on your face and to lay down at night knowing your day today was great, and tomorrow will more than likely be the same?
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