I haven’t written in a while. I have, as I expected, tossed aside my unemployment blog experiment in favor of a different, darker, trial of introspection. My brand new toy is an environmentally induced self apocalypse. A “My world is over“ special edition made up of current events. It’s pretty doom and gloom, but passes hollow time fairly well. Or, it did until the continuous hope of hitting rock bottom became such a let down after waking each morning feeling lower than the day before. The decent eventually brought me to a point where I couldn’t even imagine the end to an existence would be such a miserable trip. This realization of how far fetched my reckoning had become lead me to abandon my latest ideals. Believing all is lost over an extended period of time turns wretched. That’s what happened to me. But, I can’t take the wretchedness. I want a different attitude.
I lost the appetite for my own destruction while out to dinner with friends earlier. I was faking my way through another evening of socialization when things began to shift. For the first time in a while I stepped outside of myself and saw people living in their own worlds. Breathing, talking, laughing, eating, being. It reminded me of my goals, my hopes and dreams. It reminded me that I was still alive.
I think the key to success is a good sense of direction and lately I haven’t had one. I no longer know who or what I want to be. I feel like I’ve been stripped bare, and while cold and uncomfortable, I think it might be what I’ve always wanted. With all of the pressure to be successful, sometimes I forget that it’s me that gets to decide who I want to be next. Standing alone and uncovered gives me the opportunity to figure it out, and this week I’ve decided to get back to trying. I will do it with optimism and a smile…even if it kills me.
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