As time continues forth, I've come to the realization that I no longer rely on putting my complex thoughts down on paper to make sense of the chaotic turmoil in my head.
I've done it so much before, possess countless journals (hardcopies or otherwise) where I spent tireless hours furiously writing to figure out the complexities of human nature that plagued me in my waking hours.
Now, years and years later, my thoughts are no longer documented as often as they once were, and there can be many possibilities for this:
- I no longer possess complex thoughts. Having figured out much of what ailed me prior through countless entries of analyses and rambling, I have worked through all the juvenile issues of my youth and am now ready to move on in life, equipped by my newfound emotional maturity that my therapeutic journal writing has bestowed upon me.
- I am simply content now to express my thoughts in 140 characters or less. With the advent of Facebook, Twitter, and smartphones, release of the issues that plague me in my everyday life is simply just a button away. No longer do I find myself chewing over a problem in my mind over and over again till it becomes nothing but mere gristle as I wait to acquire some sort of medium to express these anguished thoughts. A short status update of what bothers me has become the default mode of expression, made available to other inquiring minds with an open invitation to provide their own two cents. And the character limit has wired me in a manner than I can now effectively communicate my troubles by narrowing it down to its pure, concrete essence.
- I've finally come to the realization that there is no audience on the other side of the curtain. Forms of self-expression, to me, anyway, are only gratifying if there is someone else their to sympathize with my personal growth, the trials and tribulations that I face in life. Self-satisfaction has never proven enough for me to serve as some sort of reward for my thoroughly-documented journey of self-reflection, my deep-rooted desire for praise and attention being my primary motivation behind every calculated action I perform. If it does not satiate my urgent need to be in the spotlight for even just a moment, why waste the energy on the effort?
- - -
Upon realizing all of this, only one lyric from a song by the Cold War Kids pops up in my mind to summarize what I've learned:
Thought I was built like a building's built: on concrete and stone.
Then I realized I'm just a hack actor, finished playing my role.