You Can Have Your Picket Fences.
I want a life that defies convention; I live a life that doesn’t. There’re fewer opportunities to lead such a life as I get older. These past few months have been horrible. I’ve woken up with the realization that I’m not enjoying what I’m doing now, and that I don’t really want to know how things will progress if I continue to tread down this path. Granted, it’s really my doing. I’ve had more than enough time to change my mind (at least in the beginning), and I should just finish things off and then move on to things that would inspire, or at least, interest me. But the thing is, the more I realize that I don’t want to continue, the more I deflate my own efforts into doing what I’m being forced into doing.
It’s not as if this is an epiphany of any sorts – things have been brewing for quite a while – it’s just that the further I do, the worst I feel. And I’m worried that my insane, adamant belief that I’m meant for greater things is starting to pull me down. Because I should be working towards achieving that goal as opposed to living in a grotto. I’m just drifting. I’m supposed to grab life by the balls and squeeze it dry (for the lack of any better metaphors to use) but I’m not. Golden opportunities have probably slipped me by because of my ignorance, or my burgeoning lack of initiative. It was different in the beginning.
There’s this quote from Bono that goes along the line of “when you’re 16, you feel that you can take on the world; and sometimes, you do”. As you age, you feel more feeble. You lose your drive. Your vision. Your purpose. I’m quite happy because I had no such drive or vision or purpose in the first place. I’m not celebrating my mediocrity…no should ever do such a thing…but I felt privileged not to have to pigeonhole myself or to force undue pressure upon myself to perform because I had no ambitions. (There were a few, but those were, and still are, rather impractical).
However, back then, despite my shortcomings, I was willing to make a difference in my life. I wanted to start fresh, start anew and whiteout my way to a new slate. And I did. And it was good. For a while. I was content with life. I was happy. I can say that my life has been more than blessed. I live in relative comfort (despite being broke 80% of the time). I have broadband connectivity. I sleep with a roof over my head and a fresh pillowcase every 4 days. I am fine.
My attitude towards life, however…some people would say that it isn’t. Maybe my spirit’s too free? Maybe I’ve been saturated with as much idealism that anyone could possibly take that I truly do believe I’m special (and I don’t mean that in a Scientologist way)? My own shifts towards gloom and boom are a testament to how uncomfortable I am with myself. I mean, it’s good being me. I don’t mind. At the same time, I willingly drag myself and the people around me into this scape I’ve created in my mind where everybody owes me. Where I’ve been done wrong by everyone and where I should be the sole beneficiary of all your love and affection.
The confessions of someone who suffers from an attention deprivation complex? Yeah, maybe.
The bottom line? At this precise moment, I’m not feeling happy. It’s bound to change within the next four hours when episode 6 of Season 2 of the O.C. is downloaded and ready for viewing. But that’s going to be a while from now. And even after that, I might not feel happy. Call this a pre-quarter life crisis.
The truth? I want a life that’s bigger than the life I have. I’m too scared of living a life where I’m bound to the doctrines of daily rituals and routines. I want a life that has meaning. I believe that I want it more than anyone else I know because I believe that I can handle it. Not because everyone else is less deserving of it than I am – that’s a fact – but because it’s what I want. I don’t know what or where it is. My life shouldn’t be grey. I deserve better than that. I know that everyone does. Everyone deserves better.
Why shouldn’t I?
It’s not as if this is an epiphany of any sorts – things have been brewing for quite a while – it’s just that the further I do, the worst I feel. And I’m worried that my insane, adamant belief that I’m meant for greater things is starting to pull me down. Because I should be working towards achieving that goal as opposed to living in a grotto. I’m just drifting. I’m supposed to grab life by the balls and squeeze it dry (for the lack of any better metaphors to use) but I’m not. Golden opportunities have probably slipped me by because of my ignorance, or my burgeoning lack of initiative. It was different in the beginning.
There’s this quote from Bono that goes along the line of “when you’re 16, you feel that you can take on the world; and sometimes, you do”. As you age, you feel more feeble. You lose your drive. Your vision. Your purpose. I’m quite happy because I had no such drive or vision or purpose in the first place. I’m not celebrating my mediocrity…no should ever do such a thing…but I felt privileged not to have to pigeonhole myself or to force undue pressure upon myself to perform because I had no ambitions. (There were a few, but those were, and still are, rather impractical).
However, back then, despite my shortcomings, I was willing to make a difference in my life. I wanted to start fresh, start anew and whiteout my way to a new slate. And I did. And it was good. For a while. I was content with life. I was happy. I can say that my life has been more than blessed. I live in relative comfort (despite being broke 80% of the time). I have broadband connectivity. I sleep with a roof over my head and a fresh pillowcase every 4 days. I am fine.
My attitude towards life, however…some people would say that it isn’t. Maybe my spirit’s too free? Maybe I’ve been saturated with as much idealism that anyone could possibly take that I truly do believe I’m special (and I don’t mean that in a Scientologist way)? My own shifts towards gloom and boom are a testament to how uncomfortable I am with myself. I mean, it’s good being me. I don’t mind. At the same time, I willingly drag myself and the people around me into this scape I’ve created in my mind where everybody owes me. Where I’ve been done wrong by everyone and where I should be the sole beneficiary of all your love and affection.
The confessions of someone who suffers from an attention deprivation complex? Yeah, maybe.
The bottom line? At this precise moment, I’m not feeling happy. It’s bound to change within the next four hours when episode 6 of Season 2 of the O.C. is downloaded and ready for viewing. But that’s going to be a while from now. And even after that, I might not feel happy. Call this a pre-quarter life crisis.
The truth? I want a life that’s bigger than the life I have. I’m too scared of living a life where I’m bound to the doctrines of daily rituals and routines. I want a life that has meaning. I believe that I want it more than anyone else I know because I believe that I can handle it. Not because everyone else is less deserving of it than I am – that’s a fact – but because it’s what I want. I don’t know what or where it is. My life shouldn’t be grey. I deserve better than that. I know that everyone does. Everyone deserves better.
Why shouldn’t I?
posted by funkyhippopotamus at
11:57:00 am
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