As is so often the case these days, I’m wide awake after only being in bed for an hour or so. And although I really haven’t felt much motivation to write lately, I thought that perhaps it’s time I put down a few words about the changes that I’m going through. It’s really kind of hard to explain, but the things that used to seem so important just don’t seem so important any more. For a person who’s entire life has been defined by the search for what is and what is not important, that’s a big change indeed.
Maybe it’s a growing sense of my own mortality. Maybe it’s the realization that I’m not going to rock the world as I thought I might – as I thought I should. Whatever the reason, I’m feeling more and more detached by the day. And it’s not as if I don’t care any more. It’s not as if my sense of right and wrong has changed. Perhaps it’s more a sense of inevitability – that things will be as they will be, and nothing I think or feel or do makes any difference.
Whatever the reason, somehow the world just seems less real now than it did before, and it feels less and less real to me with each passing day. How can I care about something that doesn’t even seem real?
I’m note that I don’t “always believe it gets better” anymore. Maybe I did, back when there was a part of me that saw my head and my heart as separate things. These days, the words “your heart is inside your head” sounds more like something that someone would say say to me, rather than the other way around. I guess I’ve always believed deep down that my intellect should rule over my emotions.
Not that I ever mastered the art.
I want ice water.