I immensely dislike the thought of devolving into a mindless, sheep-like, reactive Bobo doll-type-like creature, like some kind of semi-formed suggestion-inclined blob that scampers to and fro at the beck and call of its several base urges. A thing that can’t or doesn’t think for itself, a thing that has all but guaranteed its extinction because it can’t adapt to changing times. Somehow though, that’s the terminal pit that I feel like I’m sometimes slipping toward.
Years past the teenage angst-y phase, however mine was, I nevertheless catch myself asking, What is the point? On my better days, I worry less about such things and go about testing things here and there looking for “the point”. But is that part of the problem sometimes–that in my haste to stop missing out on the life in front of me, that I’ve conversely managed to lose sight of the possibilities ahead of me? At the very least it’s more difficult for me to consider this…future business. Introspective times like these are more rare compared to a few years ago, and especially times when I could easily pour an hour’s worth of time into thoughtful (more or less) writing.
I think I’ve always been a questioning child. Whatever my attitude towards other people had been, I always liked to know the whats and whys of things. My propensity to question encompasses both the external and internal, a trait for which I at least am thankful, as consistent and novel learning keeps me interested and focused. It’s no surprise to me, then, that in this period of my life, I continue to question, directing questions towards others as appropriate but mostly toward myself. I find myself looking for the correct questions, that they might lead me in a desirable direction–perhaps toward more correct questions that will reveal to me the facts about myself that I don’t know.
And so as of late, the question I summon is: What do I want to achieve? You’ll notice that this question is different from the ones regarding purpose, or contentment or happiness. I’ve phrased this particular question to myself so that the answers, when discovered, will lead me forward. When I realize what I want to achieve, then I can go about finding how to achieve it. This state of searching is better–I might say anything is better–than the repetitive state that my life sometimes swerves close to. Is that the price of the ‘modern life’, though? A 9-to-5 workweek, a life centered around earning money for…paying off money owed…working towards…what, exactly? If I’m to at least pantomime the 9-to-5, I would still like to be working towards a more concrete and comforting idea than just saving money to pay off debts and support myself and…whatever. The end goal being maybe, for a family and to work in order to support them? I like the idea of being a part of a family of my own. But aside from, you know, the whole procreation-to-‘ensure’-genetic-survival-ish business…love, then? Mm. Relationships–friendships, romantic relationships–are one of the most rewarding aspects of the human experience, despite and in part because of their ups and downs.
Maybe there are more thoughts here, but the majority of the above was written in the quiet solitude of my local library. Back now at home, I can’t focus.