Actually, it seems like a long time since I wrote any entry. Friday? Thursday, maybe? Feh.

A few months ago, I would have downplayed the importance of keeping a journal. "It's not really Writing" I would have said. I probably did say that a few times. But now that I'm not doing it as much anymore, I feel guilty. Now, I'm not even NotReallyWriting. I'm not doing anything.

I've been trying to convince myself again lately that I have a Good Life. Not good as in great, but Noble. I chose this life. I am setting an example for my more worldly friends. By shunning a corporate job and everything that goes with it (um, financial stability?) I am somehow a better person.

I'm pretty sure I don't really believe that, though. I keep thinking about money. Impure thoughts! You will never reach enlightenment with thoughts such as these!

Basically, I think I'm trying to go at the issue from two completely separate realities. On one hand, my life would probably be a lot easier if I bit the bullet and got a real job. I would have more money. I could stop hanging my head in shame at family gatherings. On the other hand, I've got all these monks living in my head shouting at me all the time.

So, once again, I'm wondering. Am I staying true to myself, or am I an idiot? I honestly don't know. The thing is, though, in the truest sense, I'm not really true to the ideal anymore. If I really beleived I was doing the right thing, I wouldn't be questioning myself all the time. But on the other hand, isn't Doubt one of the hurdles to enlightenment? I can work through Doubt, right? But is convincing yourself you've beaten it really the same thing as beating it?

I can argue either one, or both simultaneously. But I didn't want to do that today. I started out planning to talk about Writing. See, I'm pretty sure that Writing is something I should be doing, to go along with the whole Ana-as-spiritual-example trip I'm trying to convince myself I'm on.

Here's where it gets tricky. Give me a minute.

1) If I'm writing, I'm still thinking.

1a) Are you really?

1b) Stop that. I mean it. Let me finish setting this up.

2) If I'm not writing, I am not thinking. I'm just like everyone else, but with a lot less money.

3) Very few people know that I write.

4) I tell people that I am unique because I'm willing to give up the extra money in order to keep my immortal soul.

4a) Lately, I have been doubting this.

4b) I still keep telling it to people, though. Without that handy little rationalization, I'm nothing but a slacker idiot.

4c) That's pretty hypocritical of me.

4d) But if they think I believe it...

4e) Damn, is this bad.

5) I could probably make myself and all of my corporate friends feel a lot better about ourselves, if I claimed it was my writing, and not my lack of career that made me special.

***

Aha! This is important. There are actually two things that I use to define myself. Writing, and Not Having a Career. They are NOT the same thing. I could write and slack, or I could write and not slack. Interesting.

Writing seems like a far better thing to use to define myself than deliberately taking a shitty job.

I'm scared, though. What if I actually tried to get a job, and found out that I couldn't?

Yeah, I know. I'll never know that until I try. Maybe I could.

I'm afraid to find out. It's much easier to pretend I chose my life because I didn't want another kind, than to admit I'm stuck here.

Introspection sucks. I am so doing something fun in here tomorrow.

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