So, I'm too tired of thinking, I'm making plans. We all make plans of course, but this time, I'm done procrastinating.
I need to draw more. I want to improve. Only need art mediums for that. Then I'll save up and get a tablet.
Going to start jogging at least. But I need a pair of running shoes, since I don't have any. My boots are good for walking, but would slaughter my feet jogging.
Working out the upper body too. I did, for a long time, then I got lazy. Slowly picking it back up.
And of course, writing.
Both physical and mental activity. Balanced. I just, need to do something else than games when I'm not at work. I have been walking outside and chopping up trees like normal, but that's just what I've always done. It's not really much exertion, since my legs are used to walking, and my arms are used to swinging my lightweight machete a thousand times.
Having a job helps. It means walking more, and more human contact.
Not that I'm necessarily complaining about being lonely. I suppose I'm past that? It's the status quo now. But the longer I sit on my arse, the more I think about it. At least, when you're doing things, it only comes in short bursts. Pangs, I would call them. Quick and sharp, but forgettable.
I'm fairly certain that I've repressed most of my childhood memories.
But I don't remember a time I haven't felt alone. Have I ever been content? Will I ever be? Or, as soon as I could process the concept, did I come to the conclusion I was alone, and resign myself to that fact?
If I did, I must've been pretty stupid.
Resignation is a concept for the hopeless. No one can help you if you've resigned.
And no one wants to be friends with a sad sack.
I've Got things to do, now. It doesn't matter if I do them alone, as long as I'm not sitting still. It's not just for someone I might meet in the future. It's not for anyone I know right now.
It's for me. I might WANT some friend to give a crap, and listen to me whine. But I don't NEED one to live.Neither do I need a purpose to live from someone else.
There was a time I was foolish. Stupid. I wanted to give up. Now, I don't care what happens. If I'm not in constant pain, it's still better for me to be alive.
Before, this was only a conscious reasoning. Logical.
Now, it's a determination. One that I feel.
And since I'm going to live, I should do something, several somethings, and get good at them.