...if you had told me ten years ago [Summer 1997], when I was listening to a little cassette called Palace's 'Days In The Wake' on my walkman all day while lugging my aimless and critically depressed self around LA and San Francisco before returning to Florida for another year of complete self-imposed hell...Obviously, it's an extraction from a larger thought, but it's that "year of complete self-imposed hell" that's really been on my mind of late. Not surprising with my birthday coming up next week. I typically think of the last three years as limbo, self-imposed certainly, but with my inability to shake it, perhaps it's more of a hell than I'd previously considered. My fear of repeating past hellish experiences keeps me from taking risks for anything better. Am I really such a coward? Existentialism is a convenient cloak of excuse, but by its own virtue this is also all there is.
One year ago to the day, I compiled a life list of 103 things I wanted to do, achieve, or own thinking it would help put me on track. Since then, I've crossed off 20 things, though to be fair some of those were more to-do list rather than life list fare. Four items I eliminated once I decided I didn't really care about them, but they got replaced with four new things.
What's left is predominantly split between distant places I want to visit and personal changes that are difficult to quantify as cross-offable. Today, the answer I seek feels like it may lie in items 50 and 51 (which for now I prefer to keep to myself). Time will tell.
One year ago at TTaT: Setting a body in motion
