Snapshots of a Modest Life

The Philosophical Me

I have realized in reviewing recent posts that I have resorted to complaining and talking about my daily life: what I did, how I felt, stuff that is really boring and should be reserved for the pages of my personal journal (and no, you can't read it). I fear that my creativity has burned out temporarily. Perhaps a better analogy is a fire which has burned low and needs fuel; paper, lighter fluid...gasoline. There is something missing. I have lacked feeling for many days, and I think it is starting to get to me.

I'm tired. It's been a hard couple of weeks since the beginning of the semester. I've been busy doing things, homework mostly. Last semester my homework was writing papers, my mind was always working, and working hard. It's as if my mind ceases being creative when it stops being productive. I'm not feeding off of anything. My acting teacher is always telling us how valuable it is to always be reading to expose ourselves to new material, so that you don't get stuck performing monologues from monologue books, monologues which have been worn out and repeated over and over again by many people. When I was reading plays every week my mind was at it's best, and the thoughts flourished, but now that all that I read is intellectual babble, I can't squeeze anything out of my brain. My sponge is dry, and there's nothing for it to soak up. It was nice when I was forced to read someone else's creativity for class instead of some anthropologist's opinions on what culture is (or isn't), and whether it existed before an anthropologist said it existed.

I think the mind operates on two different levels. One level is the scientific, the other is the artistic. Some people are born with one more powerful than the other, more effective. I think my mind was born creative, I can't wrap my mind around scientific concepts, but words...I get words. They make sense to me. Words are powerful. I love manipulating them and making them say just what I want them to say, molding them into something positive, something coherent, something entertaining.

I am in a slump spiritually. I don't feel close to God, I haven't most of this year. Last spring I was on this spiritual high, I read my Bible, it was like I was on the same wavelength as God. Everything fit, it made sense. Now I feel like I'm wandering, my hands stretched out before me because I can't see where I'm going, I don't recognize where God fits in my life. Even after Atlanta Christmas Conference, which I had hoped would give me some kind of spiritual boost, I felt the same. Numb. That's how I feel, numb. I'm just going about my daily life and there's nothing that is sparking in my mind, it's just waking up every morning and doing stuff; just stuff. It's like those Bunsen burner lighters you use in chemistry class with the flint, you know, you squeeze the handle thing and it rubs the flint against the rough metal creating sparks. Well, my brain is like one of those, except without the flint. There are things around me every day that should make me laugh or say something stupidly funny, but it's just not happening. Things are rubbing up against me and I'm just not interested.

Am I venting again? I hate to vent when I know there are people who don't really care listening (or in this case reading), it's boring, and I don't like boring. I knew this girl in high school who was always talking about her boy problems, and I being the kind, caring, considerate friend that I was, would zone out every time she started talking about this boy and that boy and whether or not this guy liked her. I don't want to make people into the [bad/horrible] friend I was back in the day. I guess the idea is: be interesting [or funny, or not boring], people will like you more. That's shallow, I know. Maybe I'm not giving people enough credit.

Ugh, I'm tired. I need to read something creative. No, I really need to sleep.