Personal Journal

Managing Me

This re-launch stems from having seen the movie The Road, and liked it so much that I bought the book.
That was the impetus.
That momentum currently has no goal, nor has it form. I'm here. I'm writing. Letters splash out and I can't tell if they come out before or after the cursor passes their location. This is me writing. Again, and there's a small flash of rememberance of learning to ride a bicycle with no hands for the first time.

Optimism is welcome here.
My life has gotten far too dark.

I sit here asking myself, what do *I* need to do to feel like I am at home in this life?
I have so much anger, and the threat of becoming permanently hopeless has become the defining struggle of my life right now.
It is no way to live.

It is real, to be certain. I am angry and desperate and I am afraid that optimism is self-defeating.
But I wrote the other day, on Facebook, that one has to accept the contingencies that luck alone makes reality.
I have not had much in the way of good luck where my career is concerned, and it strikes me that the career, such as it is, is the ultimate factor that I can control. I would blame school, but there's no point. You simply must finish grad school, as though it were a prison sentence. Which it is.

Okay. There.
That's a load on the table, and it can be seen and touched and organized. Rebalanced.

I dislike my job, but I can try to do something about it.
I dislike my grad school requirements, but they must be completed, because the represent the framework of the plan I've made.

It's a plan to live more comfortably. To have more money to enjoy the parts of life that I do.
To have work that fills something meaningful within me.

I don't believe in god. I think I used to, but I do not anymore. I'm not really sure if I ever did. But I'd say I probably did.

Now, I might. I'm not sure, and I'm fairly sure it's not worth bothering to worry about.

Hopelessness, or the threat of it, has moved me.
I'm very frightened that there is little to hope for, and so much of what I am hoping for might well be in vain.
My insides are cold.
My mind's eye shrinks away from light and backward toward dark. It is safer not to be seen.

I am very weirded out.


It is never too late to be what you might have been. -- George Eliot
Courage to start and willingness to keep everlasting at it are the requisites for success. -- Alonzo Newton Benn