Thoughts with no name
There’s something about putting myself out there that makes me feel uncomfortable and vulnerable. Like I’m being watched and judged by a faceless, nameless audience of strangers. It’s a unique kind of paranoia probably experienced to some degree by every person who posts on social media.
It makes me want to appear intelligent and presentable to the person who is reading me — y’know to appear flawed only to that degree where it makes me seem appealing and real. This could explain why I’ve had several blogs floating around at various moments over the last decade or more and the moment I know that people are reading it (well, a combination of that and going through my old lives) makes me want to live in a hole again. So I promptly migrate and retreat to the safe confines of typing up my thoughts inside my inbox instead. I suppose this is what the everyday of a celebrity feels like — their lives subject to fierce (and public) scrutiny at every step. What a burden!
I suffer from being self-critical, have lofty (and somewhat, unrealistic) expectations from myself and unconsciously edit myself in response to a 100, un-named external things. This combination paralyses me and keeps me in a state of non-action — spells death for any creative person. So here I am in this space to quell useless feelings that prevent me from being a better version of my self.
Life is good, but the mind gets weary. It’s the one great drawbacks of modern life and its endlessly fast pace. And the more we get drawn in by technology and the endless cold type of connectivity it offers us, the less we have time for our relationships, hobbies, quiet time, conversations, human connection, warmth and closeness, and the other things that make life complete and meaningful.
At some level, I don’t yearn for this kind of quiet. A part of me wants to be busy and occupied. I want to keep myself buzzing. I love noise, bustle and crowds, just for a chance to be affected by different kinds of people and their energy. I want to act in a way that can use every moment to be productive and contribute to work and humanity in some way. I don’t want to be dead wood.
The humdrum battle again. The dreamer vs the doer. The ideal vs real. In pursuit of a livelihood vs a pursuit of a dream.
I always find myself at this indecisive place. I probably live there. This silent need to find meaning constantly pushes you down to new, distracting paths that lead back to where you started (or maybe not?).