After spending the last few months in my weird existential funk
Focused on so many different things
Like my depression
and issues with sex and sexual shame
and working on my confidence and self acceptance
This week, I remembered who I was.
I say that I am an academic, and I suppose that word fits. But it also carries with it a uniform of sorts that I am really not comfortable wearing. It always leaves me with a sour taste in my mouth. I always wonder if that is what I really want to be doing.
Somehow though, working on a paper about the civil rights movement and learning about what an asshole Kennedy was, it hit me how much I really fucking love learning.
I love being curious and digging into any possible thing that seems interesting.
I love seeking out the truth.
I'm not even sure there is such a thing, but I will happily throw my life into seeking it out.
I have been so obsessed with finding the right word to describe me, so concerned with what others think, wasting all my time on becoming lovable, that I have forgotten to do what I love.
I ponder.
I scrutinize.
I question.
And I do this with everything.
And you know what? I don't care if I get published. I don't care if I ever get a decent job as a result.
I explore and I write.
If no one wants to love me for that, then I will just have more time to explore and write.
It feels so good to remember who I am.
5:13 p.m. - 2014-10-17
Recent entries:
Jazz - 2014-11-11
Lonely - 2014-11-07
I am a loser, baby. - 2014-11-06
Awake in My Tiny Cage - 2014-11-03
God. - 2014-10-27
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