I find it interesting almost that I deprive myself of wisdom, freedom, creativity, knowledge, and all manner of greatness all to feel like I'm just this small ignorant nothing-burger. But it makes sense. Another word for being such a nothing-burger is feeling a state of mindfulness and being in the moment, not letting the world enter into my mind state, because it can be a lot to take in and process.
Of course it would be great that I read all the books, saw all the greatness of the world, remembered everything, did much productivity and great things that are available to me right now, and experienced very awesome things.
But at the same time, my mind sometimes just wants to be nothing and nobody, where the memories and knowledge of everything stays quiet for that moment.
It can be terrifying—to see the weight of everything that I've ever seen, experienced, and done. It is so much to take in, and it is not easy to process. I could very well live in such greatness, yet sometimes, it is easier to just pretend as if I'm still that ignorant kid just focused on consuming whatever at the moment.
Back to top ⤴I think I'm going to die. Just a little while now. I don't think that I can keep doing this for longer. And it was nice, nice having been alive. I think that's the only thing to say and to have said. I think that's it. But I do remember everything. I do remember the fields of grass, and the cities, and the feeling of waking up in the morning. I remember it all, yet I am here. I don't think that I can pretend forever, or do anything forever. I think this is it. All the memories, even the things that now seem completely too far gone and too far stuck in their own little places. Maybe those little places were enough, and I did not have to move on from there on out.
You know... it was fun. I loved it all. I can never have hoped to be anything at all. But I did end up becoming something. I did end being alive. And I'm happy I did live. But isn't it funny? That I still want to live? That I still wish I could keep living longer? That I still wish this wasn't just an emotional monologue? I wish that I could live longer, just enough to address everything, just enough to say that I'm free, just enough to have put everything in my commonplace book. But even with 1.8 million words, it is still not enough. And I do not see anything at all. I can barely see a thing. I am blind. I can only hope and keep going in the end. And it will not be enough, I fear. But what else can I say? It is so much to process. I wish I could talk about steampunk worlds just for a little longer, Roblox, Minecraft, those memories of traveling and going outside, those feelings that I felt throughout all those times, moments, and years going by, and everything that I could possibly remember. It never ends, and the feeling of waking up in the morning back in my former main church when I could just have cheap coffee and find that to be the most pleasurable thing to have in the cold early morning. It was so meaningless yet so wonderful—just a small place that did not matter in the grander schemes of the world. Yet it was enough for me. I was enough to have been, even if I was only a child in those years. I wanted more and I sought more, and now that I'm here, I wonder if I can even process everything. I can only do so much, and there is just so much to address and to delineate, describe, and detail. I do not think it is something that I can just wave off with the hand. It is astronomical, grand, and expansive. It is an expanse of everything that I could never find myself slotting into so easily. Forgotten dreams, landscapes from video games such as Age of Empires 2, Roblox, Skyrim, and those many web novels and stories, personal websites, ambitions, memories, quiet places, the feeling of me and my many former friends hanging out together, and the feeling of having seen the rise, growth, and evolution of many things such as real-life communities, Minecraft, Roblox, League of Legends, and many other things. It never ends.
The autobiography-journal is only growing, and it is inches in the face of light years. I can see myself publishing everything somehow in my personal websites that are not already set up for scaleability. It will take some time, and I am already placing and converging everything down and into containers. Now, I will see the greatness that I have yet to come into full contact. It will evolve and consume everything, but first, I must be patience and wait it out, because I know well how excruciating even initiating such a grand effort can be. So I edge my way slowly, stealing my way through the gaps and hoping to find a place upon which to build my church.
This is my one hope.