I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing. The psychic weight of attempting to figure out what I'm supposed to be doing, not to mention actually doing it, is making me crazy. Should I be writing the Great American novel? Should I be volunteering for the Red Cross? Should I be sending blistering opinion columns to the newspaper outlining what I think is the best for our collective futures? Should I be adopting abused children? Should I sell all my material goods and move to Tibet? Should I be baking cookies and selling them door to door? Or making my neighbors feel better by listening to their problems? What the hell should I be doing, and who can I ask? And if I do something and it turns out to be the wrong thing, what happens then? Or what if I do something and it's an embarrassing failure? Or what if whatever I do is an outstanding success and people start paying attention and then they find out that I'm just a fraud, without any real skills or talents, but just a schlub with an ache to make a difference, to be admired or paid attention to? What if what I choose to do is so enormously trivial in the greater scheme of things
Maybe, since I'm a fraud, it will be okay if I do nothing but work crossword puzzles and read mystery novels. No, that can't be right, because I'm not really a complete fraud (everybody's at least partly a fraud, after all, which means that none of us really are complete frauds), I actually do have some skills and I ought to be using them somehow. We only get to live once. But, at what point do I stop worrying about what I'm supposed to be doing and just do something? God isn't talking to me.
These are the kinds of questions that plague me every single damn day of my misbegotten life. I don't believe in God, and I really don't believe that there is somebody out there (hello?) who is weighing my relative productivity. Who thinks I should be doing something, I mean besides me anyway? Who am I doing this for, if not my own ego?
Most of all, I pray to God (are you there after all?) that these kinds of questions eventually become boring to me and I can JUST GET ON WITH IT. Whatever the hell IT is...
Or, alternatively, that I become a Zen Buddhist and stop giving a rat's ass about doing anything whatsoever. Wouldn't that be great???? Dammit, why did I have to be born a middle class, white, intelligent, educated American? It's probably retribution for something I did wrong in my last life...
Created by. Last Modification: Thursday 20 of October, 2005 17:52:09 UTC by .