Ghosts, And Other Things I Am

Today is going to be different.  I will not drink too much.  I will not smoke too much.  I will not think too much.  I will not worry about things which are beyond my control.  I will spend quality time with myself, rather than berating myself for failing at not doing all the things I just listed.  I will work on being WHOLE.  I will HOLISTICALLY heal myself, rather than synthetically altering my mental state. 

I will exercise.  I will read a book for pleasure.  I will take a nap.  I will clean the house.  I will engage better with my children.  I will visit my parents.  I will play the guitar without telling myself I suck.  I will make a proper, healthy dinner.  I will start writing another novel.  I will not wander around aimlessly without accomplishing anything of relevance. 

So many statements … all incorrect to some degree.  Some days, some times, in some moments, I may almost or accidentally achieve one of these goals.  While it’s not very likely, it’s still possible.  One of these days, I will quit trying altogether. I’m almost there.  I’ve almost given up.  I have to remind myself that I’m not dead yet, even though I feel like a ghost, haunting myself.  I am still alive.

The day is darkening outside, and with the fading light ebbs my sense of purpose.  Night will come, and I will take a bath and drink some cocktails and go to bed, just to end another day of senseless and aimless wandering.  I will send this note into the vast internet void, knowing that anyone who reads it will not care, or they will care for only the series of moments needed to get to the end and judge my words according to their life view. 

I don’t care what other people do.  I don’t even really care what I do.  Apathy is a practiced skill.  I am getting better.  I have to practice every day, because my inner idealist screams at me to make life interesting and relevant again.  But I wonder if my life was ever interesting or relevant, or if people just delude themselves into thinking that they have an impact on anything.  My words might sound defeatist, but my thoughts are almost hopeful.  One day, I won’t have to fight with my own mind about who I am and what I’ve become and why things are the way they are. 

Mental distance is reassuring.  While breathing life in deeply is beautiful, sometimes a series of gasps is enough to keep a person alive.  This note is a gasp.  I will write another later.  I will intake air and water, and (if I’m lucky) a bit of love, which is the only thing that brings color to an otherwise ordinary life.  I would like to love again, properly.  It’s the unreciprocated and/or unattainable love which burns. 

So I won’t let love burn me again.  I’ll throw metaphorical water on my feelings until they sizzle back into ash.  At least the ash, unlike the angst, is organic and useful.