I’ve been having this increasing feeling, as I get older, that my life is going nowhere. The endless repetitions of days, the daily doing the same things over and over. Of course, I’m changing, and learning new things, and interacting with people, but in the end, what is any of this accomplishing?
Even if I published a science fiction novel — my ultimate dream — what would be the point?
The ancient part of me, the part that believed in the Christ of the Bible, thinks I should sink back into that lifestyle, submit to the psuedo-religious culture in which I’m immersed. The hedonistic part of me tells me to just enjoy it. The fatalistic part of me says to just give up. Maybe this multiple nature of myself is the real problem… I have too many sections in my personality. Perhaps if I could just decide who I am and what I want to be, then some of my desolation would be solved.