I feel like writing. I don’t feel like spinning a tale, because I have a terrible time keeping track of details, and get frustrated easily. I don’t feel like writing anything for money, because that is less about the writing than it is about the search engine optomization. I don’t particularly have anything to say, or a story to share. I’m feeling reflective or pensive or philosophical for some reason, and I’m not sure what about.
I had about seven paragraphs written a few minutes ago, complaining about the amount of work we all have to do to enjoy a fraction of our time for ourselves, but I deleted them. It’s an old, tired topic, and really, I think we all know it already. No one would read it and take anything away from it, and really it’s not a topic that is in the forefront of my mind anyway.
I haven’t had any epiphanies lately, or any master plans, pearls of wisdom, or nuggets of truth.
I was once told by my father, who was a man of much intellect, though I think what he told me was based more on a hunch than based in real fact, that your body will crave the things it needs. Clearly, if you’re thirsty, it’s your body telling you it needs water, but he also mean that if you had a craving for steak it was likely a lack of protien and so on. I don’t know if that’s a fact or not, but if it is, one wonders what my body is missing that causes this ever-present urge to eat ice cream.
I also wonder if the same is true for things like writing. Perhaps my body has a need to write? Maybe an addiction to the feel of the keys? Seems unlikely. My hunch is that I must have something to say, even if I don’t know what it is.
Perhaps I’m just lonely. Life’s in sort of a static state right now, although it’s definitely never boring. My wife works nights, my kids are in bed by 7, and frequently I find myself staring at the walls by about 9. I could read, and frequently do. I could clean, and also frequently do… There’s no doubt some valuable T.V. watching I could be doing. Maybe blogging is the closest thing I have to actual conversation right now, and that’s why I gravitated toward it. Maybe it’s a discussion that’s only about me, and right now I don’t feel like listening to another person’s woes, I just want to air out my own?
Maybe it’s just the restlessness of uncertainty weighing down on me, and my body is trying to sort it out by writing. It’s been a while since I wasn’t sitting, wondering how this or that was going to work out. Waiting for the unexpected to jump up and inconvenience me, or the expected to not happen. Maybe it’s been too long since the last good or exciting thing came to pass. Part of the post I’d started earlier mentioned how any fun stuff we want to do came with a necessary prerequisite amount of unpleasant crap we had to do to make possible… I think the last year and a half has had lots of negative and while there’ve been a few positive, I don’t think it’s been very even.
I think I’m depressed, tonight. It’s one of those nights that everyone has where you sit and you think about what you’d do if , but you realize it’s no possible right now. It’s one of those nights where you realize you expected to be making a bit more money, or saving some, or at least not living check to check. Even the innocent, loving, care-free ways of my kids, which usually bring a smile to my face just make make me wish I could give them more.
I think I’m wishing I wasn’t as dependent on the kind of support I get regularly, and were getting more support of a different kind, that I don’t necessarily need.
Everyone’s been there. It’s one of those states you visit frequently, I think. I’m aware that things could always be better, nothing’s ever perfect, etc…
I dunno. You ever feel like you’ve got things on your mind, but can’t really define it? Like, maybe there are too many things to list or talk about, though you want to talk anyway?