This wasn’t forever, this was just right now. Something he could not explain had lulled him to do this. There was something from an early age where he had been driven to record his thoughts openly.
And yet, something about the gravity of this compulsion was not to his favour. Although he seemed in some way to be satisfying a great urge and great need. He was at the same time nullifying his life and not enriching it outwardly only inwardly. He had been told that inevitably what is inward will soon be outward. And he’s realised this was true, but not only our great qualities but our poorest ones to. In his case, his resignation. His flight from terrible discomfort and disruption. He had fled repeatedly back to something comfortable in the face of discomfort, hoping to repair his malady, but inevitably that comfort had become the very cause of his disruption and there was nowhere else to turn but elsewhere.
He hadn’t grown up only grown badly. Or at least he had learned to grow up badly. His whole life was in disorder and he had placed himself in this disorder. By simply not following his own thoughts and committing to his own goals. He did not have a desire to be back in the circumstance he had once fled, in fact fled repeatedly, he desired to be free of them, but he continuously believed he could repair his life and escape his problems. He became so inwardly focused on his personal goals, that he didn’t consider the consequences of his outward habits, and no here he was in this predicament.
Both deep down and on the surface of things he desired to remain to be what he was, and he compelled that this happened.
Maybe he’d never made a good choice, maybe from the beginning he had never made one right and correct choice but was continuously making further bad ones. He began to distrust himself and distrust all those he spoke to. he just wanted to create a new vision of the world, to belong to something better than before. But in the end there was only this world and piece by piece he had to make something great of it.
The irony was that he truly loved being in this kind of predicament, so long as he could actively face it. It was really when he was taken away from it, when all hope seemed lost that the problems began. Usually when it was growing late winter and he wanted to return home and see his family. Right now was both the most terrifying and most profound moment in his life, and it couldn’t be made for him. This single decision was going to be the decision of the rest of his life. Whatever happened next he would commit to this road, and all the domino effects that it would produce.
He now had everything that he was. He was beginning again, all over again. He had been in this situation a thousand time. It was time, it had already been time, to build and choose a life. He might have to start later than he hoped, but he would build it. Willfully, and not reluctantly. He would look outward through himself, it didn’t matter what seemed like it would happened, he would choose for himself that the outward was always reflected by the inward.
Beginnings are always difficult and he’d made them a thousand times over, but this was different, this was now a kind of end, a kind of landing spot. And he was beginning yet again all over again. But he could see himself with real clarity, he wasn’t designing or figuring himself out: he KNEW himself and that gave him more power.
Nothing had really changed in him, he was the same person he was at 16 as he was now. The difference was how much he had progressed at being that person in the world. He had every attribute to become that person, he just needed to realise it. There would be a way, but it wouldn’t be by drifting in to it, it had to be committed to, and pursued, it had to be created, it had to be a journey and it had to be a story from elsewhere brought back. Life could be better than this.
No kidding that life here was fucking awful . But somehow, he had managed a way to make something work out of it. he had made something good. And that gave him a little hope. He had a little footing and still nothing bad was really going to happen to him. It was just ugly outside, people were ugly, and their habits were conflicting, but from in here, things were fine, it was nice, peaceful, and he could step outside and experience the world without any difficultly. It wasn’t all bad. Something new was coming.
Your thirties suck because we spend our thirties undoing our most enjoyed habits our twenties. People might look back and wonder what they were thinking. I was living! Its just that most people in their thirties stop and settle down. No I decided that I would start being sensible with money, I would start being sensible with the people i surrounded myself with, I would start being sensible with my attitude (just get on with it) but i would not start being sensible. I would still hold precious my ridiculous and extravagant dreams. If anything I would be less sensible, because I was clear about them, much more so than was I was 20. I’d already lived a chunk of them, realised a chunk of them. I didn’t have to look at other people, i just had to look at myself and improve on it. It wasn’t over.