i think it's time to remind myself that everyone lives behind their masks, and the only thing different about this new layer is that it has been externally prompted. maybe it's time to be thankful that i've gotten this far without having to feel this way.
- Kris, almost 4 years ago
i've thought long and hard about why i don't blog like i used to. it's easy to blame things on being busy, but that's not the real reason.
this blog never really was a commentary about the world around me. it was about me.
and there's something that's changed about me that i can't really bring myself to show from under the mask.
we all have our secrets. our dark side, even. and unlike in the movies, we can't just embrace it dramatically in public. we could, but then we'd probably be quickly consumed by our inner demons or something (i don't know. i've been too afraid to see what happens when i let loose).
life seems fragile.
trying to be be the best version of yourself means there's too much at stake: too many chances to do something you'll regret for a long time.
my mind always seeks out the worst case scenario. sometimes, it seems like it's the only way i can keep myself away from the path of quick self destruction.
but that path sometimes seems like slow self destruction.
another rushed morning, another day at work that passed in a blink, another mindless evening that would probably be kept sane if i don't assert myself or think too much, another night of not enough sleep (even if it's sometimes 12 hours).
halfhearted attempts at eating healthy because i've wired myself to guilt-trip every time i do something else, getting to my activity goals because my phone reminds me to.
most of what I do is not because I want to do it. i don't even know what I want to do. when I start thinking about it, everything falls apart.
i remember this friend who, over 15 years ago, said he hits the bottle every night he's alone because that's the best way to stop thinking, because when you think too much, everything falls apart.
i thought he was addicted or something. maybe he was. but i now know how he felt.
it's not that terrible.
my problems are possibly not that bad. i know plenty others who have it worse.
my problem is that i thought i could see through everyone else's mask without attempting to see beyond mine.
and, so, here i am. at the end of a long winded blog post that lost its point, just like i did. just like (or so it seems to me) humanity did.