#11.8.16

ERS2016 lockscreens | set 63/?

After watching a short video on the importance of introspection yesterday, I came to the realization that the inner conflict of wanting to say something but not knowing what to say exists because I want to be listened to but don’t have much to say that’s worth listening to. I don’t like that very much. I’d much rather that I want to say something because I feel like what I have to say is valuable. I wonder if gaining something valuable to say so I can say it is one of the pistons in the engine that is propelling me down the waterway of self-discovery and truth seeking.

If I’m searching for valuable information for more reason than to simply possess and use it, it’s gotta be that I want to share it. There’s a piece of me that would want to share it to benefit others, but I’m betting that the wizard behind the curtain is simply that I want to be listened to and valued. I think that’s a mistake though. Thinking that I would be able to accurately convey the truths I find is unfounded thinking, and the high I get from recognition seems misguided.

Should I focus more, then, on honing my capacity for communication? Or should I try to cauterize that piece of me now that I’m aware of it, and focus more on gaining the valuable information for myself and reach less toward passing the information along to an audience? If I give up on the audience, does the importance I place in attaining valuable information wane?

The idea of scaling back the search for an audience is calming. It sort of feels like a release, or the realization that something very hard I have been pursuing is not worth pursuing or irrational, so the very hard path I have been treading can be left for something different.

I think that direction will always be in the back of my mind, though. It will constantly be a traveling companion that influences where I go, what I do, and my mood.

I want to be pissed off. I want to be full of rage and frustration and motivation to do something, to change it, but I just feel utterly and completely empty.

Why would we think, for two seconds, that we matter? That queer and trans people, that people of color, that disabled people, that women, that poor people, that Muslims, that anyone other than those in power matter? I have never been so disillusioned in my life, and it hurts.

There’s so much that could go wrong. There’s so much.