I have had myself believing for quite some time now that blogs are a waste. People aren't supposed to know our inner thoughts, our insecurities, our subjectivities, I've said to myself. Life's tough...get over yourself...get out of your head...get into the world. These latter admonitions have characterized a lot of my thought processes for the past few months, so not surprisingly what I've become is much more achievement-oriented. I am not comfortable saying that this trend is stopping any time soon, while at the same time I feel like this is all headed for a crash course with severe emptiness. Already, it's gotten to the point where I finish with school and have no idea what to do with my free time.
A close friend called today, majorly overwhelmed by Life and the fact that nothing in hers is going well whatsoever. A year ago, I would have been filled with good things to say, encouraging things that I really believed. I had faith, correlated with a solidly-grounded sense of self. I had strength in my voice. Today, I had little to offer but the meagre admonitions of progress, that according to some depersonalized principle inherent to Reality, desperate efforts made in a dark oppressive cave eventually are rewarded with small shafts of light, though their source be unknown. This causal phenomenon, that flailing about leads to victory in some unknown yet hoped-for form, derives little from a concept of relationships and personal growth; it is the Work Ethic in its most shallow form, and it is what I've internalized this year for a number of reasons. First of all, it is absolutely true that college hasn't been taken advantage of fully by this author, who has spent more time pondering the spiritual affairs of the inner life (read: in his head) than anyone else he knows. This last year which has flown by represents an attempt to make up for lost time, and the year to come, with its associated financial burden, demonstrates a willingness to put myself out on a limb in hopes that it will open up better opportunities for me, which it very well may.
I really, really don't want to post anything about myself on the internet anymore (see the-tobis.livejournal.com), because I want to get away from having to talk about the things I end up talking about in these posts. At the same time...I desperately need an outlet, and running from this need is clearly making me increasingly unable to help those who are in similar situations. Another close friend and roommate of mine said last year that in order to have compassion for others, we have to have compassion for our own suffering. The latter task is becoming very hard to do; we don't have time to give attention to our pain, I say, the world is filled with people in much worse situations who need your help, suck it up, be an adult, become more sophisticated and existential. Be strong. I still want to adhere to these progressive, determined views for many reasons. The problem is, they are fundamentally unable to help me live in the present.
