Diary Entry #00891: Things to reevaluate at length. Preferably whilst wearing a smoking jacket

Its hard to shake this lingering-eternally sporadic lingering- of inertia. The last few months have been a sort of stasis- a holding pattern of what next, what then, and then, and then, and then. I wouldn't call it a crisis, or a question of faith, but it has definitely been a period of somewhat troubled reflection and calm.

If you could do anything with your life, anything at all, what would it be? Would it be this? Would it be here? Would you go back and do it all over again- would you do it the same?

I've never been one for regrets. Not to sound tough or badass, but more- if I am healthy and happy and like the person I've become, then all the events and decisions, good or bad, have led me here, and I can't much regret them. I know there are woes, and whatifs, and shouldhaves a plenty, but I can't much rue them, else it would raise the question of: well, if you don't like where you've ended up, or rather, who you've ended up as, then who on earth, what on earth, would you rather be? Which I think is sort of inane. I could and should continually strive for challenge, accomplishment, and a more healthy and happy version of me, but I should never strive to be someone else, or to be like someone else. I should learn from my mistakes and foibles, apologize for them if needs be and relish them if that is the case, but there are no do-overs. If that makes any sort of muddled and murky sense.

But I have found myself in a sort of gross pause as of late. I feel at times like my brain is melting out of my ear, as if time is oozing past on the periphery, slipping through my prone fingers, and that I am more of a spectator in life than anything else. These moments are littered with and, at times, eclipsed by shining, ringing peels of the exact opposite: kinetic fireworks of ideas and energy, a whirl wind of graspable momentum, and a total immersion in the present, with glistening ideas for the future. I think the professionals might call this manic-depression, but whatever- its the way things run, and I've never much minded, as those shining, ringing moments are more than worth the downhill slide into the gray fog of idleness. Its just that lately, the gray seems to be seeping in more heavily, leaving behind a longer shadow, taking more time to cobweb away from my eyes. I think most of this stems from having so much free time- it no longer feels special, or cherished, or something to take advantage of, though it really, really should. And no, I don't think finding a job will fix it, because it seems I've hit that point where I cannot tolerate the shuffling mindlessness of wiling away my hours just so I have something to do. I'm not really sure what will fix it, other than a fixed point on the horizon: something to work for, and towards, and onward and up, and more time spent in the company of people I adore who cause that lightening spark of inspiration, potential, and chaotic energy.