I suspect I've written an entry by the same title before, which mildly upsets me. It's a theme that recurs frequently enough in my life to warrant a repeat, though, so I'll let it go this time.
I sometimes find myself awake at night without anyone online to talk to. It's probably the hours I keep (not too many people are up at 4am). This habit affords me plenty of time to sit without the risk of being disturbed and reflect. There used to be a park right outside of where I lived where I would go wandering late at night when the lights were all off and there were no cars or people, just me looking up at the stars and the moon looking down at me. I don't know what it is about being alone in the dark, but I find it comforting.
When it's too cold or rainy, it's comforting to dump my brain onto these bits and bytes. My updating patterns have been so aberrant that I doubt anybody reads this still, but that's okay. This is my chance to put my thoughts down for me to come back to later. I can't tell if it's comforting or depressing to read things I had written almost 5 years ago and still find myself able to identify with what I put down. Is it a lack of maturity? Or am I right when I say that people may change superficially, but only rarely do they change meaningfully?
Lately, I've been looking at what I'm doing and where I am, and I can't help but wonder if this is what I really wanted to be. I think and do a lot of terrible things that I know I shouldn't, but I can get away with it and so I do. When people talk of new year's resolutions I always find myself at a loss for what to say. There's so much that needs to change.
I'm not very good at transitions. A simple, contrived example is getting in and out of bed: once I'm in bed I don't want to get up in the morning, but when I'm awake at night I don't want to go to sleep until I really can't handle being awake anymore. Once I get into a particular state I'm pretty much okay with being there. I know where I am now, and it's okay. I also remember where I was, though, and I can't help but wonder what would happen if I were to try to reclaim what I [thought I] had. When is it right to let a ship that has sailed vanish in the horizon, and when should you jump overboard and do whatever it takes to catch it?
When I leave LA tomorrow, I wonder if I'll be able to put these thoughts of the past behind me and focus on where I am and where I want to be. I realize it's not actually solving the problem, and I'll just be running away from it; but that's good enough for now. I tell myself that as the future we build for ourselves shine brighter, so must the glory of the old fade away. But I don't believe me.