Distractions. Distractions distractions distractions. Buy this! Hobby that! Movie this! Work that!
I’m spending my whole life diverting my attention, running from the big questions. I like doing tons of stuff, but I wonder if all these things are just escapes. I waste 11 hours of my day working on something I don’t care about, in the grip of an evil corporation. I sleep for 6-7 hours a day. That leaves 6 hours for me do to the things I want to do. Not bad, but not enough to call a life.
If I spent 11 hours a day doing hard work that at least made a difference, that would be one thing. If I felt like I was an upstanding member of society, that would be one thing. But I’m just working for my own benefit, trapped by my own fear of failure and being negatively viewed by “winners”, those that have “made it”, even though I hold such people in contempt. I can leave. I have all the tools to leave. Many people don’t have the opportunity I have now — the savings, the marketability, the degree, etc. But I’m trapped in my own mind, and it’s pathetic.
So I spend my days running away.
A week ago, I picked up a guitar for the first time in years. I didn’t play anything fancy. Just some chords, and ran through some of the single string melodies. It scared the crap out of me to feel music again. I keep being reminded of things that I had forgotten. Feelings. Emotions, as opposed to logic, and reason, and straight and narrow definitions of “success”.
I remember dreaming, and laughing, and even hope (the most evil thing on the planet). And yet I remember the feeling of hope fondly…why is that, though rationally I have refuted it? I remember the dumb things I used to say as a kid.
But I keep running away from all that. Fear. It’s all fear. The world is the same wherever you go. You’re wasting your effort. You’ve got something good here. Life is about settling. Thoughts like these echo in my mind, make me a slave to the wheel.
But if I keep playing that guitar, I won’t be able to keep being a “winner”, or a “success”. I won’t be able to fake the smiles, or compliment the machines around me. Every time I touch a string, the truth comes closer, and the fear takes a step back. One day…one day soon, I’ll play something like White Summer Green Bicycle, Red Hair and Black Guitar, or Solanin, or even some Dio song, and that will be it. I’ll ditch it all and start from zero. I just hope it’s sooner rather then later. Courage, please. Courage.