Entry # 89: July 27 - Redefinition
Sometimes, time seems endless, the amount of time you have before you, at hand, available for use - endless it seems because you don't know what to do. Of course, you do know what you should be doing - yet somehow, motivation is lacking, the excitement, the joy. Nothing seems real anymore, nothing appears important, and the things you once cherished, have either changed and backfired - or you have. Priorities might be different now than they were then, and your time suddenly seems too precious to waste it on that nonsense.
But then you wonder, how did I get things done back then, with all the other stuff on my hands? Was I more hard-working? Was I better motivated? Was I more fulfilled? My life better, more productive?
Maybe the experience of getting dumped, getting ignored and discarded, is not to be underestimated at all. Maybe that's all got to do with that one moment of horror, that split second back then - that moment everything changed. Maybe.
Maybe the entire situation hasn't changed, maybe that moment was just an eye-opener. One I could very well live without, for some obvious reason. Love doesn't die. But maybe, that's something which just plainly and simply had to happen, had to occur. Moments that make you. Moments that make you become who you are right now. One single moment that made me become who I am right now. Why should I pretend to be talking about an anonymous "you", if the truth is that it's about me, just me?
Maybe that's one of the consequences of such moments. I'm generalizing again, I know, but I believe it to be legitimate nevertheless. When you have to experience everything falling down around you, or sinking relatively to your very own perception, doesn't that mean that the ego suddenly gets to play a very different role? I'm not advocating selfishness here. But what does it come down to, in the very end? Isn't it my own voyage? Is not it my own life? Do not I have to make my own decisions? And if so, wouldn't it be wrong to always just rely on others, on alleged authorities who cannot really tell me anything? Cut off what doesn't belong to you. Cut off what makes you a lesser human being, what disables your thinking, your sense of life, your life energy, your ability to do good. Community is a good thing. Too much community, commun-ism, is a bad thing, it crushes the individual and encages it - not only the bad sides, but even more so the good sides. Free yourself. Then you can truly free others and give rather than receive. For if you give just because others tell you to, this disvalues it, disconnects your self from the experience. You have to be free in order to be a human being. Not just physically, mentally, emotionally. Only then you can access the truth. And bring it to others, gently, giving them the space to breathe you yourself have had so much trouble to obtain.
And then, what then? What is time now? Isn't time suddenly running out, your tasks outgrowing you, encaging you again? Boy, you can't imagine how desperately I would love to kill this web site of mine, to just be on my own. But then, what then? What for? What are the benefits? Hasn't everything good which came to me in the last years had at least some connection to this site? New friends, colleagues, job offers, discussions, raised self-esteem, a redefinition of my self even? So that's not an option.
So what else, am I to shut off my TV, not go to the movies, not read, relocate to some darn hut in the hills, pretending to be a wise guy just because I could finally be alone? Wouldn't I lose my connections to the world, the things and persons I need, the persons that perhaps need me? Who am I? Well, I guess, I should write about that, that's always been the best way for me to somehow retain and repolish my sanity. Otherwise, I could just kill myself. That's no option either, however much sense it would make. But I do feel it to be wrong. I just can't grasp it logically. Maybe we're not logical beings after all, and logic is the key to all unhappiness. Unhappiness, however, would be a feeling, I reckon.
Maybe the best thing is honesty. Honesty is priceless, and it's something you can rely upon. Sadly, some people don't seem to know what it means, or can't seem to appreciate it when it happens to them. Are they afraid, don't they believe in honesty, in the truth? Well, I want to believe. I have to. Otherwise, well, would you want to continue living in a world full of lies and affected pretentions? In a world without substance? I wouldn't. Maybe I've found a new task. Finding a reason to live, each day anew.
(see also: Poems: Broke Down, Broken Down)
July 27th, 2001