So I had this big thing written up just now about how capitalism invades our brains and makes us think weird without realizing it.
But really I was just writing cause…..I need to write. I need to have a fucking conversation with myself, somewhat out loud, somewhat on this screen. I guess I feel that the things going on in my head and heart right now are too tumultuous to contain safely without at least some release.
And I don’t know. Sometimes I remember being younger, feeling so full of despair for various reasons and having no idea what to do with it. And now here I am, not filled with despair but nursing a fairly large portion of it, having some but admittedly little idea how to proceed.
I suppose that my only solace and guiding light currently lies in that exact contrast: were I who I used to be, this would stop me up a great deal more. But I will wake up tomorrow and have my tenacious hunger to learn and experience intact. At times through the day I will no doubt be troubled more than is comfortable or convenient, but life will go on fairly smoothly.
Some lingering doubt always remains: will I ever really find an equilibrium that I can sustain and be happy with? I do not know. But I can be sure of one thing: it is sometimes better to be surprised than it is to know.