I am under the influence to write again, and given that there has not been much permanent influences of late, I see no harm in expressing my opinion right now. – written on borrowed sleep time.
I’ve been staring at this page for a while now. I feel that I should begin to write again but I also think that this might represent another struggling attempt at starting something else. I can’t seem to think of an opinion that might be my own, and of my own nature. I would normally carry on and write about influences in my life in the past months since it’s been bothering me, but then again – what might be new? I’d say – there can never be a single opinion in mind that has never been thought of before, or expressed, and surely it would have been delivered more fluently, and of it’s time – but even this is an influenced opinion. What then, is there to write?
Perhaps I seek control over the birth of my opinions so that I might help myself retain it’s influences and it’s roots. Yet I know with undying certainty that this is quite a futile attempt at my helplessness in dealing with my inability to create anything I’d deem valuable.
But write nothing of yourself. The more personal something becomes, the more common, and the less valuable it becomes. This should probably be made clear to me, dear writer, that you should exclude everything that might reveal anything about your silly hopes and wishes and those feelings thing.
It is terribly noisy where I am right now, and the brain’s quite fuzzed from a bit of run (heavily influenced by Lone Survivor, but nothing shaming about this) But it’s got me thinking about whether or not we’ve been living on borrowed influence.
The idea of studying for example, not necessarily studying a specific subject, but just studying, formal education – is it really just consistent external influence? You would look at a person who wants nothing in his life and does nothing but does what he desires daily – eat, sleep, and we would normally judge (as I would judge) and think nothing of him. Lowly. But is he really?
While I must accept that most of us allow a certain influence to structure the way of our lives, and no one can judge us as harshly as ourselves when we allow this, people get to places with influence. What would you do if you couldn’t find the right influence, though? Or if you cannot sustain and preserve a certain influence throughout your life?
I’d think there is an enormous amount of influence that governs and shells us from other influences that try to penetrate into our lives. It is pitiful to see influences that could change our lives, for better or worse, erode away as a result of a routine of thoughts and actions we think fits us best. It fades away with our incapacity to aggressively change and lose our comfort and ourselves with it, or our fear of losing a lifetime of principles and thoughts and experiences that have fed and clothed and satisfied us. Not at the cost of comfort, never.
(I just ate a brownie and it’s terribly sweet and it’s 12:22am)
My fascination with all of this, as is my struggle, is what it would take to overcome the lifetime of principles that’s meant to help me survive. What would it really take to rip apart a lifetime of culture and traditions we claim sacred, and principles we claim necessary for our survival?
Is it all right if a person wants nothing for himself? It probably isn’t, considering that there will always be people that he would grow to love and care for, and he accepts their influences because he must, and would perhaps struggle with it because it isn’t of his nature.
This satisfies me for the night. I hope that I have no commitment to this and that it will not haunt my some day. Night, friend. You’ve entertained me yet again.