Eaten Alive
2026-01-12
Yesterday, I didn't write because I went back to Divine Liturgy after six months of absence. It felt good to be back. When I first attended services, my feet would hurt the whole time. I was so out of shape that I couldn't even stand for two hours. Now that I've been going on walks every day, it's easier to stay on my feet. It was a small thing, but I'm proud of it.
It's crazy because I used to be so in shape and I really let myself go. I used to ride over a hundred miles a week as a bike messenger; after years of bullshit, I was barely able to stand for church. I knew something had to change, and thankfully it has. So much was taken away from me, but I know that I can get it back and become stronger. I have to become stronger.
I was reading my essay on the Nowmina and cringed at myself. It really wasn't a good essay, even though I worked hard on it and spent a lot of time on the ideas. I found that it fell flat on the philosophy and the practical digital advice. It tried doing too much at once—a bad habit of mine. I've been faithful to myself with this project, but I fear that I still have a long way to go in writing anything else. I question if I can do it. I don't know if it's something I can aptly do.
There's my fascination with prose style that makes writing fun for me, but I don't think I have many good ideas. Most people don't have good ideas. Really, we're all lucky to get just one good idea in our whole lives. The other tens of thousands of ideas are all garbage. All we can do is wade through the bad ideas, try to develop some into mediocre ones, and wait until that one good idea blesses our minds. Then, all that has to happen is complete and total focus towards making that idea real. If it stays in the mind, it will be forgotten—then you'll have to wait again for another good one that might never come. That's why I work here every day. It's a form of waiting. I have to wait for my good idea to come and make it real. There's no other way.
There's no other way for me to go with my life. I don't really have the gumption or fortitude to deal with anything else. I burn out too quickly. People get upset when I try to contribute. My fitness is improving, but I don't know if my body can handle another physical job, despite my desire for one. The thought of applying to become a union electrician still crosses my mind a lot. It's easy for me to fantasize about it, to imagine myself jumping those hurdles and becoming a real working man. Fantasies don't enter reality—that's why they're fantasies.
Despair comes for me often, especially when things feel like they're going well. When I feel like I'm making progress, that despair comes back and convinces me that it's not real. Even when I try to remember the great wind that carries us all, I still go about in pity for myself. I don't tackle life anymore. All I do now is let it pass by. I guess that this writing is my attempt not to let it pass by, maybe try to take a snapshot the best way I can. I don't think that's the way it works, though.
I tried reading some of my entries from August, back when I first started publishing Cogito. I couldn't get through any of them. I didn't want to read any of that shit. It didn't feel valuable at all, just another piece of meaningless ephemera that has no say in what happens today. The guy who wrote Ecclesiastes was right: it's all an intangible vapor. Nothing here in this world is real. Hegel said that once you learn that the world of the senses is an illusion, that's when the real work begins.
But I don't know if I have what it takes to clock in every day.
Yet no matter what happens, things keep happening. The only way we know how to go is forward. The tape doesn't ever stop. It's always rolling, rolling, rolling. There's always something to experience, something to think about, maybe even understand. I don't know if I want that anymore. Most go about their lives without understanding the darker truth of our perceptions. Others do, but I don’t know if they let it eat them alive the way it has eaten me.
At least I think I'm alive, anyway.