I’m frustrated. Angry. Disappointed. Irritated. Restless. Conflicted.
There is a revolutionary war going on inside of my brain. My right & left sides have taken it upon themselves to tear my psyche apart, ripping away my ability to function. You see because every year I make promises like everyone else. “I’m gonna do this and that and I’m not gonna do this and that” and because it’s the beginning of a new year, it all seems possible. That untapped 365 day blank canvas is refreshing, it’s that feeling of the first 60 degree weather day after a cold, harsh winter. Except my winter hasn’t stopped.
My fucking problem is that I’m living in the 21st century with a late 19th century mindset. And no, I didn’t discover that idea through a Buzzfeed quiz I saw on Facebook. I’ve been professionally analyzed by a licensed doctor who says that I am on a fucking quest. I have ideas in my brain that are conflicting with what I’ve grown to learn over the last twenty years. To get a job, to invest money, to buy happiness, to struggle, to play it safe, to wake up every morning and complain about your entire fucking life. As I explained to my therapist about how I hated possessions, debt, anguish, and repressed psychological stigmas, he nodded his head intently and explained to me that the things I wish to accomplish are not easy for someone of my particular age & position. “Well great!”, I thought. Just what I wanted out of my life: the impossible. Except it’s not really possible. I could, and have tried many many times before to disappear off of the face of the earth. Social networking fucking ruins my life man. It makes me insecure, it wastes my own fucking time, it’s POINTLESS, and yet somehow I cannot stay away. It is, of course, the emotional satisfaction that comes with every fav/retweet/like/etc. Everyone is so god damn nosey, wondering what other people are doing/looking like/thinking about all the fucking time. This is insanity. What blows my fucking mind is how some people can be praised on their twitter feed for the funny shit they may post, but in person they’re a complete drag.
But this isn’t about how other people are behaving on the internet, it’s how trying to keep an online persona running constantly is draining my life. I once sat and thought about how the internet can make extroverts out of introverted people and laugh at the idea of how we have internet personas to project out into the online world, much as we try in the real world with our appearance and personalities. I vomit at the concepts of both. I’ve been taught to try to do things a certain way to reflect a persona in which I want to convey to the world & maybe eventually reform my integrity. But we all know the true definition of integrity, and I’ve been trying to take notes of my exact behavior when I know that no one is watching or being fed a feed online or know what I’m listening to or anything. I advise conducting a similar experiment.
Analysts everywhere will tell you that if you want to thrive in any sort of business today, you’ll need a strong social media presence. This is true, sadly. Shit if it wasn’t for the business I get from my Facebook page, I’d be off the map almost immediately. But I just can’t seem to do it. I can’t find my exact motivation. I get bored after a day of being offline and wonder what everyone is doing and I cave. I’m weak. But I’m human. This fucking internet drug use is making me miserable. I have combated the writing problem; however, I’ve been keeping a journal for about a month now. It feels odd in its own way, writing to no real audience but my future self. It is a universe of its own.
What point am I making in this post? That I’m bragging about how I’m gonna leave social media (again (again (again))) because it’s “ruining my life and wah wah wah wah wah fuck people”? Probably. Who knows. It seems I’ll never escape my labyrinth of suffering; making $150 per week from a job that’s too far away, having to find a new psychiatrist because the one I was seeing wasn’t in my network, not wanting to get out of bed every day, feeling tired every waking fucking second, not being able to pay my bills, living from dollar to dollar, making the wrong choices, debating on the right choices, having no escape. Life is way too simple to be this fucking complicated.
Imagine no possessions.
I wonder if you can.