Now that blogger seems to be working better, I thought I’d go on a little about why, now. What are the things weighing on me at this moment?

I feel like I am a million years old. Not old in a physical sense, but old in that I’ve lived so hard, so extreme, so much. I’m tired. I’ve done hard things in life, and it’s not that I couldn’t do them again, it’s just that I feel used up. Worn out. Like I’ve seen enough, am vaguely afraid of that statement, “They can always hurt you more.” The loss of innocence on innocence seems unbearable, and utterly irreversible. I’m tired. Tired in an existential/spiritual way. They say I was born an old soul, and I feel like it’s just gotten older and older.

There are all kinds of things I want to do in life: write a novel, travel to some places, etc. But I can’t imagine anything else I want to do in the future that would be worth the work of actually getting there. And all of that is futile too – once you die, it’s the same as if you never did any of it. And we are back to point A: I am tired.

But tiredness isn’t enough to kill me. It will be when I’m racing, speeded up, can’t find rest, too much energy and nothing to stop it.

And I’m back to being all needy, wanting to call a friend.

I found another site that said one reason that is a bad reason to tell someone is wanting sympathy. You’ll never get as much as you need, and may not get any at all. Sounds familiar.

And in the meanwhile, I just, like some crazed Energizer bunny, keep on going about life as if all were normal.

Will try to post again tomorrow, or even later tonight if I can’t sleep.


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