Concern

I’m concerned, I realize suddenly — like I had realized when writing or speaking that the passive voice, or weak qualifiers such as “probably” or “maybe,” appear too often in my words — that I am, in thought and speech, far too cynical. It seems just like brief examples of negative or pessimistic thinking, like I will highlight negatives as the basis of my speech, even if I’m saying something positive, but strung together the whole forms a truly negative outlook.

This surprises me, because I didn’t always act this way; in fact, I seem to remember being much the opposite. Not that I was a shiny, happy optimist, but I believed in things that felt good to believe in: I believed in science, for one, which is kind of boring, but I did have a wonderful enthusiasm about space science, and dreamed about space missions and watched NASA intently. It is just pragmatic, to a point, to be skeptical about science, especially if it solves no immediate problem that people are dealing with today.

But I also believed in poetry; I believed in art; I believed — corny as it sounds — in love. All of this feels like it’s gone, now, and I feel lessened because of it. Beauty used to be a big part of my life, but I don’t have it anymore, and I don’t know where it went. I’m fairly certain that it’s because of this lack of belief in, or love of, any of these things that I’m single, and have been for so damn long. It’s at least half of that answer, and the other half is probably just my personal demeanor of shyness mixed with narcissism.

I’ve got a decent enough job, that pays really well, and I enjoy working with those people. I’m doing well in my slow, steady pace towards a master’s degree. I’m pretty good at writing free software, and there is a project that I love contributing to. But this isn’t enough to make me happy; true, I may just be lonely, but it feels like it’s bigger than that — that I’m lonely because of something a lot bigger that’s missing.

Maybe it is just that I’m getting more mature, and shiny objects no longer captivate me. But it is, I can only assume, like losing faith, and that you can lose it in many different ways, some of which hurt worse. Losing faith can be liberating for some — you can feel free of the burden of there needing to be a higher purpose to the universe, and can concentrate on the real, true things of your life — but for others it can be devastating, and you can wind up missing the space you occupied before, sometimes dreadfully much.

I don’t suppose there’s much of an answer, not that this is a question, and I doubt you my dear lazyweb would provide much of one. But there it is, and it’s in your court now, until next time.