I have been trying to keep my posts somewhat-short for a while now. This was initiated to benefit those who aren’t keen on large blocks of text, but it hasn’t been pleasant. It’s not me. At least, it’s definitely not how I write (or speak, for that matter).
My writing style is more along the lines of long-winded and usually muddled, often seeming pointless. That is what I enjoy, and that’s how this post is going to turn out. Lest you’ve forgotten, though I do enjoy your presence and value your opinion, this journal—at its core—is primarily an egocentric release mechanism. Nothing more.
So, what I’m saying is, “It’s going to be long and boring. Deal with it.”
Our topic of the day comes to the fore because of the recent passing of Turkey day. Now personally, not being a fan of Turkey and having work to get done, it really wasn’t terribly different from any other of my days. But the constant jibba-jabba of people around being thankful for this and thankful for that resulted in a stark realisation:
I am not really thankful for anything.
There have been points in my life where I’ve been called “an ungrateful wretch” (yes, in those exact words), but I’d rather believe I feel this way (thankless) because I really don’t have anything to be thankful for.
Like the rest of the world, all I have are huge internal lists of needs and ambitions, and to cut to the chase, I am nowhere near where I ought to be. Now that clearly sucks, and justifies why I am not thankful for anything. Screw you “Season to be jolly and grateful”, I’m going to stick to what seems more unaffected at the moment—being a Scrooge-like bitter old man and all Humbugey.
Even with somewhat extravagant goals, my life plan is relatively uncomplicated.
Sit around and wait until the things you want fall in your lap.
This plan is seductive in its simplicity and brilliance. Except that there’s one minor flaw, it doesn’t always work.
There are several distinct aspects of my (or anyone’s) life which function on varying levels of this autopilot-panacea. For instance, the thing about my academic progress and intellectual work in general is that they function and proceed fully automatically—in spite of me. All I can recall doing is floating around arbitrarily, but when audited at regular intervals, really concrete things have gotten accomplished as my understanding of the world has grown.
See? That’s how my whole life ought to be. I’m talking about the rest of my life too. My “real life”.
Then I’ll be thankful.
I needn’t have to work hard at anything, I’m me god damn it. But, clearly enough, this doesn’t carry over all that easily into my real world. So in effect, I’ve been coasting along for a quarter century, in my (arguably pleasant) status quo. Nothing terribly important changing, nor anything magical happening. I repeat,
Let stuff in my life magically fall in place, then I’ll be thankful.
I am not really asking for much.
Now, veering tangentially off our topic of the day, I’ve learnt to accept that my life isn’t going to have the range of highs and lows experienced by those kids in their orgy high on PCP, and the next day when they’re stumbling near the gutter in the cold. No, my life is a lot plainer, and my entire range of experiences will fall within a much smaller range of highs and lows.
Is it really all that cool?
There are pros and cons.
Is it what I want?
I don’t really have a choice.