I totally live in a dreamland where I think all my ideas are amazing and I can’t understand why I don’t have a team of personal assistants on my tail plying me with coffee and doing my banking.
Somehow when the components of life were being dealt out, I ended up with all the “make shit happen” genes. It’s a perplexing situation for a relatively apathetic person. I don’t care much about a lot of things, so why do I have a drive to make those things that I don’t care much about a lot better? I fall prey to ambition and feed my want worm with visions of a softly billowing future.
The biggest insult anyone ever told me was that I was insatiable. That’s worse than everything. It means that no matter how much I accomplish, I’ll never be satisfied. I’m designed to always want and never attain. If I am insatiable, it’s definitely fucking my shit up and it’s forcing me to question the participation I have taken in my life.
Could I have had a better time if I had stopped seeking a better time? Is it possible that by constantly soliciting fulfilment we seek ourselves out of a perfectly fine existence? Maybe all we are supposed to do is breathe, and nothing else - buy a hammock, watch the sunset and become lifeaholics.
I’ve tied my happiness to action, and it has yet to serve me well. The future is in passivity. The future is in not worrying about the future.
Maybe that will ease the embarrassment of knowing that I was once my best self, but it still wasn’t enough to win the fight.