I’m tired of angst. Quite an ironic statement for a blogger I suppose, but the negativity is really getting me down. So I’ve decided on a little experiment: I’m going to be an undying optimist. There are so many good things going on right now, and I would hate to let myself get bogged down in problems and trivial shit. Don’t get me wrong; I am well aware I’ve got problems. All sorts of them. But worrying hasn’t really done much for me so far. I just want to roll with the punches for once, and see how much fun I can have before it all catches up with me. Doesn’t that sound like a cool idea? Its like jumping on the moon; I’ll shed my gravity and nothing will hold me down. The way I see it the worst thing that can happen is I land: the experiment fails, and I have to deal with things I would have had to deal with anyways. So consider this fair warning: be prepared to keep up. And if I do crash, expect to see me climb from the rubble saying “Damn, that was fun.”
Monday, July 12, 2010
I fear that I have become far too comfortable with fantasies and fictions. I find myself making plans and coming up with ideas, but never following through with them. This blog is a great example; I’m embarrassed I let seven weeks go by without writing anything. And though I may say that I was “too busy,” or “distracted,” I know I have no excuse.
The problem is my imagination runs too wild. In my head, it is so simple to picture myself actually doing things, making things, accomplishing things. And in these daydreams I seem quite happy, content with what I have done or experienced. But all too often I let myself be content to just think about these things, instead of making them happen.
I believe the root of my problem is fear. Inside my mind I have control; everything is perfect, which is why I am so happy. But in reality, things are bound to go wrong. We find things to be harder than expected, and sometimes we fail. I guess I am just afraid that my dreams will prove to be nothing more than lies I told myself. At least the fantasies I have give me some pleasure, and perhaps their reward is not worth the risk of failure, rejection, and disappointment.
But I’ve come to realize that it’s a bullshit attitude to have. It’s the biggest thing keeping me strapped down and stuck in the same ruts I’ve worn the past nineteen years. I want to live a life full of experience, and I want to leave some mark. Imagination may make me happy, but the things that I might make or do, the things that are real, just might make other people happy. And other people are the reason for the world.
I want to write. I want to compose music. I want to re-learn the violin, and learn harmonica. I want to see a show. I want to explore Toronto. I want to make a movie. I want to be famous. I want to have fun. And I swear to myself, even if I don’t succeed at all these goals, I will try. I will take the risks; I will jump and hope something catches me, because I never want to regret a wasted opportunity, or an unanswered question.
I’ve got a few of those questions left in my head right now, but I promise they will be answered the next time I find a chance to ask them. And that chance can’t come soon enough.