Just because it's been awhile doesn't mean there aren't things on my mind. It's more a question of where to begin and where to start.
I've been noodling a lot about the purpose of things. On a macro/obvious level, the purpose of life, human existence, what have you.
I've been struggling with something that I've realized lately - I've been trying to hold it at arm's length lest it get too close and really pollute my state of mind. It happened most recently when I had a day to myself - a day where there were no appointments, nowhere to be, no one to meet, and nothing pressing to do.
I'd long thought in busier times how there's nothing I would like more than time at my disposal. Yet here I was, no less satisfied. Instead this dread started to surface - the realization that for all of my industriousness, once that was taken away, the activities that I was preoccupied with were merely a distraction from the meaninglessness of those activities. It sounds strange but in those unoccupied hours, I really felt the onerousness of time much like I did in school, watching the clock drag on and willing for it to fast forward. It's a sharp change from how I've felt the past few years - hummingbird time - where everything seems to move so fast and I can barely get my hands around 24 when all of a sudden I turn 25.
I've also been struggling with Nick's death and the absolute irrationality of nature. A more devoutly theological me would reframe his death as an act of God - something foreseen and meant to be. Yet the current me, atheistic and profoundly logical, knows that this is something the more theological me is doing to contend with the freakish circumstances surrounding his death - a narrativization of traumatic events. All I know is that someone pure and good and wonderful was ripped out of this world prematurely and I don't know what to make of it.
