I miss having time, energy, willingness to put down my thoughts, I miss my own misconceived self importance, the journey that had no destination that I underwent for so long.
Shit changed and changed again. I find myself doing the most mundane of jobs (for okay money). I lost almost everything I actually cared about. I found that most of what I valued was fucking meaningless. I woke up one day and the idea of expressing myself was exhausting.
Existential crisis? Maybe. It felt more like I burned something away finally. A want for... camaraderie. Like it finally stopped mattering.. All of it did. I feel like a stranger from who I was five or ten years ago. Things that seemed to matter, don't. Expressing oneself is less about what is written or said and more about what one does, who they are. You will make less of an impact than you think you will when you are young, more of one than you want to when you are older.
I have two people I work with. One is an adorable pixie of a girl who treats me like a goddamn guru. Left her home store to join mine because I have some kind of spiritual wisdom to teach her. She tells me all of her problems and I tell her to fix her shit but with a weird Earth Goddess vibe to it. It's what she wants, a sounding board and she is notqq capable of concepting anything I actually have to say. She annoys me. The constant help me grates on my nerves. She's also a terrible person who potrays herself as a nice girl. She's selfish, victim mentality having, flighty, drug addled and annoying. She's irredeemable to me and I don't mean that in a good way. More of a please stop breathing air way.
Then there's my other coworker. He's the only one I have opened up to at all. He read my blog on his vacation. Jesus fucking Christ, he drug this shit up. He comes back to work and we talk about Satanism and philosophy for the majority of a very long shift. He asked me why I stopped writing and why I don't try to publish a book. I told him because information should be free and nobody gives a damn about philosophy in 2019. He's the nicest guy, perceived as an asshole by most of the staff (I'm the nice one, lol.), accountable for himself, respectful to most people and depressed but in a dark humor way. I want to help him. I want to grab him and hug him and say, everything will work out even if it doesn't, especially if it doesn't. He's not looking for a sounding board though. Or a guru or a mother. He just wants to kick it and chill and pick my brain. No what should I do? What are the answers?
What bothers me is he stays at a job he hates because I'm there (One of his outside work friends explained this to me). I tiptoe around the whole thing. I know he's gonna be okay and batshit crazy will get hers in the end. I know it's not my place to intervene or even offer advice. The only advice I could give is do NOTHING the way I did it. I'm not an example, hell I perpetually don't have my shit together.
I guess that's why I stopped. I realized one day I didn't know shit. I've forgot more lessons than I've ever learned and applying things I've learned, rofl, is not my style. Until it is. I keep changing, becoming a new version of myself while retaining a weird stubborness that carries me through life. It's less I have wisdom and more of a fuck you mentality making me still kick around.
At 40, people want me to have some accumulated wisdom to offer and I have one for myself, kinda, on a good day if you don't take me to seriously. I don't have answers. I don't think anyone does outside some personal philosophical bent they can come up with and maybe codify in some way.
Anyway, I missed this. Didn't realize it until someone brought it up. Now what? Maybe I'll write some more, maybe I'll never write again. It's still all about me though. That's all that matters.
