It took me a full day's work to realize why I was feeling so melancholic. It wasn't the string of disappointing dates. It was something a little more upsetting.
I had let go of my purpose in life.
Namely, to work at finding someone to be with.
This kind of mini-epiphany brought back (ugh, here we go again) a memory involving my ex. After our final breakup, she insisted that I should let her go back to her sad, lonely life.
Apparently, I demanded too much of her. Which I disagree with to a certain extent.
But, in remembering that, I began to acknowledge the importance of spending time alone. To allow oneself to hit the bottom and to put focus back on personal development and growth.
It's a smart idea.
Yet only if you happen to be concerned with hitting the reboot switch on life and hoping to find yourself.
Perhaps, that is exactly what I need to do. Posting a consecutive entry like this, would not be possible had I went about my daily routine. I'd get home from work, fire up a cup of coffee and answer messages on OkCupid or wherever. That was a good hour and a half right there.
Now that I've disabled the accounts, I've gotten back that time.
And this is the result. An increased desire to contemplate my situation and blog about my thoughts on it.
I've always been an introverted person who needs to be left alone every once in a while so that I can have moments like this. To reflect and put together the pieces of who I am and what I want to be. When I'm getting inundated by messages and spending weekends going out with random girls; opportunities for quiet introspection are often hard to come by.
As a result, when I am not thinking enough about myself, I become crippled. Whenever my thoughts flow out to extraneous things, I'm diverting attention that could be better used elsewhere.
For instance, I have been a member of the Writer's Guild of Alberta for almost a month now and have yet to submit to them a story for evaluation, knowing that it's something I need to do.
But, the desire to send it out has never really reached the point of no return. Yet, isn't writing something that I deeply aspire towards doing for an eventual living? Why aren't I taking it seriously enough?
And the answer to that, is probably because I'm far too occupied with work, chores and people calling, texting and emailing me at all hours of the day. It almost feels like I'm losing a bit of myself each time I speak to someone. Like.. I've emptied the reservoir just a little more.
It's funny how my mind works sometimes. I get so much satisfaction from just sitting by myself near a lake with an iPod and a book at hand. It feels so rejuvenating to do stuff like that and I haven't been doing enough of it lately.
Perhaps that is partly responsible for this mood of emotional exhaustion I have been experiencing lately. I am simply not spending enough time on myself.
However, I have a plan. Yesterday I emailed Shaw Cable asking them to cancel my cable tv. Who needs that shit? A hundred some channels all peppered with redundant, brainless garbage (really, Man vs Food... again?) and I finally had enough of the temptation to flick on the one-eyed demon and gaze into it's cathode soul for hours on end.
Because it doesn't benefit me or my cause, in the slightest. Maybe it does allow me a brief respite from reality and the chance to put my finger on the cultural pulse of our world, but why should I be choosing this particular medium to accomplish those ends?
And should I really be hiding from reality in the first place?
Those are some of the things that I ponder on. With my chin resting on a pair of knuckles as I gaze out past my dusty window blinds into the dandelion infested back yard of mine.
Maybe.. happiness is a total submersion in reality. To accept that it doesn't hold the same allure as Dancing with the Stars or another episode of Destination Truth. That life is more complex, more opportunistic than simply staring at a screen.
And that's the way the cookie crumbles.
