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Tuesday, February 18, 2020

Rediscovering the Human Spirit

I've lost a lot of my passion. It's something I've sort of known in my subconscious for a while now, but it took a mini-mid-life crisis to truly recognize that it wasn't just a temporary exhaustion and that my passion would be better in a few days/weeks/months.

Once you get past months and start saying, "years, yeah, when I pay this thing off, I'll take a pay cut to work on something I'm passionate about."

My drive to help other people has turned into complaining about the rich and criminals on Twitter.

My deep rooted hunger to create, whether writing or drawing or cooking or music has turned into a 10 minute a night routine to check a thing off my checklist.

My excitement at the thought of working for Marvel comics, or traveling with a band, or working at ILM, or for a non-profit has rotted to complacency. I punch my time card in and never punch it out.

I play video games as an escape. Modern games to have my little hero fantasy where only I can save the world. Older games to recapture my childhood where my passion raged dawn to dusk.

I buy junk to give little boosts of endorphins, convincing myself that this is good, this is right, this is the American way. The shackles of capitalism strapped debt to me in the womb and tossed me into the river, a constant fight to stay above water. The relief is the treadmill. Put a little on the credit card, it's fine, that's next months problem, you want that thing now.

I guess this is a long winded way of saying I want the time to just go and find myself.

I don't want to be attached to an inbox anymore or endless task lists. I'm tired of my brain feeling too drained to function. I'm tired of doing things on other people's schedules.

Is this the peak of human existence?

Us huddled around a screen in a 6 x 6 cubical,waiting for a notification to pop telling us we have another task to make our masters more wealthy. Sitting on the couch at night telling ourselves, one little check of my work email just so my morning is easier, not realizing we're further blurring the line between work and play. All too scared that these imaginary digital numbers held by a bank will someday run out.

A job used to be a means to do the things I like. I've not been taking care of myself and doing the things I like. I've been doing the things to get to the weekend and then lamenting the weekend is over.

I never did the backpacking across Europe, or three months off to travel America in a Toyota Camry, or teaching English in Korea like a lot of my friends did. I don't know if it would've put me in a different head space or Sal and I down a different path, but it would've been a hell of a journey, and sometimes that's worth it on it's own.

I just sort of want to disappear from responsibility for a week, without my phone, go see some national parks, and just be with my thoughts and some good music.

I want to get in a car and drive northwest and when I get tired of that, southeast. I want to meet strangers, hear their life stories.

I want to reconnect to myself and humanity.

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