On My Ever-Increasing Dullness
- October 7th, 2009
- Posted in Uncategorized
- By sycobuny
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I can’t pinpoint exactly when it happened, but I’ve become dull. There’s no real good way around that fact, since it’s the pure and unadulterated truth. At some point I stopped being interesting in any way. It’s not that I don’t think interesting things, or want to do interesting things, it’s more that these things never quite make it out of my head.
At one point, I was daring (take with a grain of salt, this was on the Internet): I wrote what I thought, and screw what anyone else thought. I was going to school, and learning more every day in spite of myself. I hated just about everyone, and it apparently showed quite clearly.
Over time, however, I grew more and more cautious. What would happen if my boss were to read what nasty things I wrote? What if I complained about my partner (as in life) and he read it? What if, worst of all, my mother read it (she’s very sensitive)? All these things weighed down until only the most bland of ideas and thoughts actually made it from my brain to the screen in front of your face.
I can’t really promise myself that I’ll fix that. It certainly won’t happen overnight. This blog is ultimately my attempt, though, an attempt to overcome the stage fright of the world wide web, where all our words are catalogued forever on some hardware in a warehouse in California. Someone might someday come down the line and say “oh my goodness you were so [angsty/retarded/mean/gay],” but I guess I’ll just have to deal with that. The fact that no one will now can’t be counted as an accomplishment: no one would simply because no one cares.
Of course, no one will care about this post, either, but I’m trying not to give too much of a shit. It’s not really working out well, so far, but I’m giving it a go.
Fuck. That. Shit.
It happened while you worked here. Do you see why I complain about this place so much? You get tired of it, but I struggle with the dullness and if complaining about it is the only way that I can stave it off, then I will. I’ve had a lot of practice at that method, anyway.
Why do you think I spend hours upon hours reading information on pharmacology and pain medicine? Not only do both of these deeply impact my life, but because, maybe, just maybe one day I really will get the hell out of the place–out of this job, this city, this state, and maybe even this god-forsaken country if I’m really lucky. I only planned to be here for five years–and it’s only been one–but we all know how plans go. You were a summer intern, five years ago.
Something I would like to think is that I haven’t quite fallen that far. I have certainly refused to water down my every little idea and creative impulse (though you win there with the music, I don’t have any artistic talents) for the sake of some day easing myself into a mold. I’ve blatantly refused to comply with societal expectations even if it’s something as small as refusing to allow the door guy to check my receipt and rummage through my recently-purchased property at Sam’s. I post status messages on Facebook about how much I hate this place where the owner of the company not only reads them but responds. The one tiny little creative thing I have is writing and I’ve absolutely refused to censor myself for anyone–from my employer to the users of my software (though I’m no Ulrich Drepper, yet).
When I first met Kristin I spent hours on the phone with her every night talking about how to not lose yourself. I read her this comic, and it was something very important. Although we’ve had to take detours due to societal things like debt, we’re slowly but surely getting to where we want to be because we both absolutely refuse to give in and let the waves of time wash over us.
You used to mock me when I would talk about being at work for so long and not being able to go home to my family and refusing to go to bed as soon as I got home so that I wouldn’t be tired at work. What you just wrote is almost the same thing.