30 days to live…
People have posed one question for a long time, and, for good or bad, I’ve thought about it for about as much time: If you could know when you were going to die, would you want to?
Well, in the current mindset that I am in and the place in my life I am currently at, I would have to say no. No, I wouldn’t want to know. I can say that honestly because, lately, I’ve discovered that I do not fight as hard, or even not at all, when I know that an end is near.
I will be moving to Los Angeles in 38 days. (Well, I’ll be leaving NY in 38 days, getting there about 2 weeks later. Regardless…) And, now that the goal is near, now that the date is almost a month away, I have found I have lost all joy and motivation for being in NY, and for doing anything at all, as a matter of fact. It’s such an interesting experience. I’ve entered a downward spiral of complacency because I have nothing to believe in. It’s as if I would like to accomplish everything but can’t think of anything that would be worth it because nothing can be taken with. I’m only “alive” for 38 more days, so what does anything I do matter? What is there to strive for if I’m going to be leaving it soon?
Love? Only to have 3000 miles between us? Work? To have something tempt me to change my mind? Friends? (see LOVE above).
I know, I know, this all sounds really depressing, but it is not meant to be. It’s simply an observation, and a healthy one at that. If we can’t be brutally honest with where our minds are at, how are we going to ever change them?
I am well aware that this is a phase, and a short one at that. I am certain that sooner than later, the weather will get warmer, the money will begin coming in, my values will become stronger and I will be the machine I once was before. I know sooner than later I’ll be back in the game kicking ass.
But, for now, if I knew I were dying in one month, I am not sure much would change for me, so, I don’t want to know.
I’m excited to move. I’m just not excited to stay for 5 more weeks…