Past Shadows Dark and Deep

[1] I’m not big on resolutions.

Even though I like the idea of having a clean slate and a fresh start, I never really have one (what with the shackles of language and measurable time), so I’m always defeated before I begin.

I’d love to write more, to get in better shape, to start a new career, to learn to read Russian and get better at German, to move to London, but I’m not going to do any of those things just for the sake of the Gregorian calendar.

I’ve changed a lot in the past two years, and I like to think I’ve learned a few things during that time.

One of the most important things I’ve learned is to never, ever apologize for who I am. I’m still guilty of doing this at times, but I’ve made a conscious decision to never change myself or be someone I’m not for anyone or anything. I genuinely like myself. I’ve already done far too much compromising in my life, and it’s never led me anywhere good.

My resolution, of sorts, last year was to laugh more and to learn to let go. I’ve gotten better at letting go. I did a massive cleaning out of my apartment this summer, and I got rid of so many things I was clinging to. I thought if I let go of these things and the memories trapped inside them, then the hope of returning to a time in my life where things were better would be impossible. It took me realizing I didn’t want to return to that time, that things were different then but not better, for me to find the solace in release.

I’m still in the process of changing. Something has been happening to me the past few months, and I don’t know what it is, but I know I’m different than I used to be.

One of the biggest things that holds me back is thinking I need to find something to live for, that I need to feel some sort of purpose, that I need to have very sure goals, and that I need direction. The problem is that I think (and I really and truly believe) that life is pointless and meaningless as we float along in a completely indifferent universe.

I can’t force meaning.

I can’t just adopt some fabricated life goal that I don’t feel any passion for achieving.

I can’t fake things in myself that aren’t there.

I’m tired of trying to force myself to see the world differently, because when I do that, it makes me mistrust everything I do see and what I actually do believe (which, admittedly, isn’t much).

We’re all hypocrites in some fashion (and I’m certainly no different), but I’m going to make a conscious effort to live in accordance with what I believe and not fight it when there’s nothing there.

I don’t see the world the way most people do. I don’t take pleasure where most people seem to derive it. I don’t build the same type of relationships that most people have. The longer I live and the more people I meet, the more I realize this to be true.

I’m just saying, it’s all fine. I’m not deficient because I’m detached. I’ll either find meaning in something or I won’t. For me, it’s just more likely that I won’t.

And I must be what I must be and face tomorrow.

But I’m no longer going to pretend.

[1]Title (and last lines) allude to “Flowers Never Bend with the Rainfall” by Paul Simon (performed by Simon & Garfunkel).

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