I was cleaning some of my old drafts that were never published.
I cringe to read what some of them say and how some of them were written.
“Was I ever that young, emotional, and stupid?” I ask, despite the posts having been written within the last year or two.
Many of them were rants that I thankfully didn’t post. But it does make me feel like I would cringe reading some of the posts I’ve actually published on here.
I don’t really believe I’m too different a person from a year or two ago. And perhaps I still react the same way given certain emotional stimuli…but I don’t feel that way anymore. I don’t feel like that person that wrote all that stuff. That took all of life’s trivialities and ranted about them. That took daily life and made it bigger than it was. More dramatic.
Yes, there’s definitely drama in my life. I have external drama that keeps me occupied generally…so I haven’t had the need to look within myself and question or argue with myself. Which has caused me to write a lot less.
I’m all drama’d out….right now….and the drama I have, I can’t write about.
I sort of miss it. The passion to write something meaningful or introspective. I’ve had things I wanted to write about lately but they always just…get forgotten. I have little notes on the things I want to write about…but it never really seems worth it. I’ve been walking to work a lot lately…but I’m not really thinking of anything that’s mind blowing. I haven’t figured out anything new…there’s no internal conflict. Am I burnt out? Or have I figured out enough things about myself that it’s really…well, not all that fun anymore.
I know who I am…how I react to things…what bothers me, what doesn’t, and why. I feel like I’ve figured out most of the whys in my life, especially regarding myself…which is really quite upsetting as I live for the whys, the understanding.
I’m happy. I’m out of conflict, drama, and figuring stuff out.
And this life makes me really unhappy.
…that’s so retarded.
