Too many nights I lay awake thinking of mindless pursuits. I’ve many times lamented about the trivial pursuits which have captivated my undivided attention for far too long and often. Sure, who among us isn’t guilty of having diversions that bring us a bit too far from where we’d like to be intellectually at this stage of our lives? Sometimes, turning off your brain for a little bit feels good, right? I’m not really so sure anymore, even if it must be done for sanity’s sake from time to time.
I know there was a time at which I truly began to tap into a reservoir of deep contemplation within myself. The exact time and place escapes me, but it was during my teenage years. Even decades on, there are things I still need to say locked up deep inside of me. The words still escape me when I try to make any sense of them. There may never be an appropriate time or way to explain some of them, as they aren’t subjects that can be casually dropped during a conversation. Still, I feel I should spend far more time speaking my mind rather than continuing to indulge in unproductive diversions.
No matter how much I get to composing myself, there is always something holding me back from going full bore. For many years, I found myself hopelessly muddled by the selfish concerns of others and subliminal influences that forced me to deny my true nature. been so muddled lately. Only after a hard refresh of my entire life can I now explore in-depth about each of the stressors that caged up my true self for the better part of three decades on the earth.
I will always have something to say, and I really don’t have much of an excuse to not simply write every single chance that I get. Making better use of my time is more of a priority than ever, and I’ve been taking one step forward and two steps back for far too long. Even when the words I need to find elude me, there must be a better use for this grey matter between my eyes than reenacting fictitious battles of angels and demons, star cruisers and space dragons.
Whatever needs to be said lies between the lines of much I’ve already written. The mindless things are actually more signposts on a wonderful journey of imagination and tragedy, and along the way what seems a strange and pointless diversion is in fact the world I created for myself to hide within until the time was right. After all, nothing is truly as random as it first appears and the significance of what appears to be nothing could be the most important thing I have yet to say.
