locomotivation
I never seem to know when or where motivation will strike. I'm a serial short range addict, so they hit hard and fast and only seem to last a few days or weeks at the most. Sometimes its sparked by something as weighty as survival, such as paying the rent or buying food. Sometimes its a film, a song or a quote by some famous (or not) person who gets the current buzzing in my brain. For the past few months, I've been attempting to manufacture motivation by stripping my life of everything. The things I care about, the things I love, the people I lean on or attempt to avoid. I've even gone so far as to temporarily move out of my apartment in an attempt to shed myself of the 'fortress of solitude' mindset I seem to wallow in when I'm at home. It isn't working.
Sure, there's a slightly stronger desire on my part to straighten up and fly right, but I've been here before. It always passes. I've never thought of myself as entitled, but the more I look at my life through a telescope, the more I realize I'm a lot closer to pathetic mooch than I am independent free spirit. At this point, I've pretty much eliminated every 'want' in my life...so I'm certainly not guilty of living a charmed, frivolous life. I'm poor even though my family is not. To say I choose to be poor is a half truth of varying degrees. I could stand to put in a bit more effort everywhere...but, at the same time, I'm quite proud of how I've managed to resist the invisible gravitational pull towards 'adulthood' in all its warped, consumerist, liberal-conservative glory. That life, and world, is not for me. However, it leaves me with few options. Even fewer should I continue to choose to go it alone. But I look around at the people in my life, and I don't see a single person I could trust to team up with or lean on for any extended period of time. It seems I'm always paying into that invisible friendship/family bank account and rarely able to withdraw more than a buck or two for coffee. And I don't drink coffee.
More than anything, I've come to not trust myself. I know what most of the problems are, and the route to their successful elimination...or at the very least, their taming...yet I continually find myself swimming in black pools of my own design. Misery. Anger. Frustration. How did I allow myself to become so embittered without at least attempting to keep the sensitive, hopeful soul in me fed? Probably the same way I've allowed my cupboards to become bare. Neglect, lack of time and money, and too many forks in the road.
Excuses...that cupboard is far from bare.
After a while, it gets hard to tell your falling. Then you take a look around and don't recognize the scenery anymore...only the distant light of your past and the fading light of your future...and you realize just how far you've fallen.
Sure, there's a slightly stronger desire on my part to straighten up and fly right, but I've been here before. It always passes. I've never thought of myself as entitled, but the more I look at my life through a telescope, the more I realize I'm a lot closer to pathetic mooch than I am independent free spirit. At this point, I've pretty much eliminated every 'want' in my life...so I'm certainly not guilty of living a charmed, frivolous life. I'm poor even though my family is not. To say I choose to be poor is a half truth of varying degrees. I could stand to put in a bit more effort everywhere...but, at the same time, I'm quite proud of how I've managed to resist the invisible gravitational pull towards 'adulthood' in all its warped, consumerist, liberal-conservative glory. That life, and world, is not for me. However, it leaves me with few options. Even fewer should I continue to choose to go it alone. But I look around at the people in my life, and I don't see a single person I could trust to team up with or lean on for any extended period of time. It seems I'm always paying into that invisible friendship/family bank account and rarely able to withdraw more than a buck or two for coffee. And I don't drink coffee.
More than anything, I've come to not trust myself. I know what most of the problems are, and the route to their successful elimination...or at the very least, their taming...yet I continually find myself swimming in black pools of my own design. Misery. Anger. Frustration. How did I allow myself to become so embittered without at least attempting to keep the sensitive, hopeful soul in me fed? Probably the same way I've allowed my cupboards to become bare. Neglect, lack of time and money, and too many forks in the road.
Excuses...that cupboard is far from bare.
After a while, it gets hard to tell your falling. Then you take a look around and don't recognize the scenery anymore...only the distant light of your past and the fading light of your future...and you realize just how far you've fallen.
posted by neil at 11:54 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home