I need to stop staying up late. Too much time to think without doing anything. What do I even think about, anymore? I distract myself when I'm at work, fantasies of what I'll do... but don't carry out anything I think of doing.
It's hypocritical, I'm well aware. I hate young people too, did you know that? Especially my own generation. The recent trends in parenting are horrendous. It's no wonder that most children can defy their parents, especially as they mature. They complain about their imagined problems as if anyone actually cared.
You can get all the emotional validation you want. But the truth is, the world works a certain way, regardless of if you receive that support from those around you. There are things you have to do.There's a nice sweet spot, normally. Where people, more or less, realize the value of hard work, and set their minds to it.And, surprise surprise, they're happier. Almost as if there is, -gasp- satisfaction in working and supporting oneself? Who would've guessed it.
Most people would call it depression. I just think most of my own generation is disillusioned about how things really are. Of course reality would let them down. Simply living would seem overwhelming. Impossible. Why even bother?
At least the older generation learned how to work at an early age. And, wait for it... never had that problem.
I know I was spoiled as a child. Spoiled rotten. I had everything I wanted. Toys, games, anything. I had the same thinking. I thought I could grow up to change the world. That everything mattered. That there was some higher purpose I was destined for. Daily activities, working... they were obstructions. Obstacles. Pointless. When you think that way, everything seems pointless.
Again, you could call it depression, but I call it incorrect thinking. Most modern youth have an incorrect or obscure grasp on reality itself. Of course it would seem terrible. When you realize that nothing is quite so meaningful. That you aren't so special. Why even live, you might ask? This is only compounded by issues. Broken homes and abuse, among a slew of other problems that might assault a young person early in life.
Without perspective, you can't see the point of carrying on.
You can keep going, or give up. But the people who keep going are happier. I see that. I just wish I could make others see it.
But that's why I dislike my own generation, as well as many elderly ones.
No matter how tactfully you might try, no matter how kind and nice you are, you will not change their thinking. Period.A young one will stay in his mindset, until something powerful enough brings that necessary revelation. An old one will stay in that mindset... well, until they're in a box. You can't change either, because neither will listen to you. And both groups accuse the other of not listening. They're both correct.
But that nice, tolerable sweet spot in the middle. When a person is still working hard, and willing to accept advice. Not confined to a single train of thought, and open to try new things. Those people are more fun to be around.
To be honest... being emotionally distant from those I knew as I grew up; that was fine. Perhaps it was for the best. If I had entered into a close relationship with anyone, I probably would've screwed them up. Thankfully, I'm not quite such a spoiled brat anymore. I think...
At least, I don't see the world like a child. I don't expect anything from anyone.
But that doesn't change the fact that I'm alone. I hope to meet someone at that time. In the sweet spot.
Why? I know I'm going to be a pain in the ass as an old man. IF I live that long. Better to hook someone before I get annoying, and while we can enjoy it. No kids. Ever. Period. I am not capable of being a father. I know and admit this. Don't think I'm not serious, and don't pity me for it.
I'm about to be twenty. Twenty whole years. Alone. I can count two deep emotional connections I've ever had. Two. In twenty years. They weren't even my family.
What's my point? I'm not trying to complain as an emotional teenager.
Rather, someone who's been talking to Spalding for 20 years.
People tell me I'm smart. Smarter than my years. Well, yeah. I spend all this damn time thinking, and not doing anything. I'd be much less creative if I worked on a damn farm.
I picture Einstein talking to himself. Wouldn't have done much good, would it?
Well, that's just about what I'm doing.
I've examined myself, my own mentality, and my situation, thousands of times. Flipped it sideways, twisted it, turned it inside out, transparent.. sketched it, outlined it, sculpted it, painted it, destroyed and rebuilt it. Over and over and over and over.
And again, that's for almost twenty years now.
It just gets old, ok? Real old.