Tonight, I want to really open up. No outline. No preconceived notions about which direction this is all going. I just want to talk for a little bit, and it may or may not be writing related.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I feel empty inside. I don’t know how I’m still going.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
What does that mean? What am I talking about? Can I be more specific?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It’s loneliness, and hopelessness, and a sense that everything I care about or that I’m trying to accomplish will amount to nothing in the end. That all of my efforts, all of my life, will be forgotten when I’m gone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I want to make the world a better place and fill it with a little bit more love. But I’m shouting into the wind. Whatever seeds I plant will be crushed before they can take root. Perhaps by accident, perhaps by malicious intent. Whatever the reason, I cannot do enough. I will never do enough, no matter the merit of the thoughts or ideas that manifest in my brain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That just sounds like depression, right? Something a great many people are going through after the last couple of years. With the news of the all the shootings, it’s natural for sympathetic people to feel down. Right?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The thing is, I have always felt the need to do something<\/em> to try to make the world a better place. Draw. Sing. Write. Perform. Be a good friend. Spread love. CREATE.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The need has never diminished, but the hope has faded more and more over time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I don’t think anything I’m saying is particularly unique to me. In fact, the way I’m describing this, it sounds like a noble purpose, right? Make the world a better place through art and love. That would be a life well spent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Tonight, I’ve been trying to analyze the need a little bit more. It’s not entirely selfless. I’m not that perfect. Some of it is ego, for sure. I want to be remembered. I want to leave a mark on the world. That’s selfish. Who do I think I am to deserve<\/em> to be remembered? Billions of people are born and die, and most of them disappear like smoke in the wind. Why should I be any different?<\/p>\n\n\n\n I think I just want to feel loved. I want to feel like I am known, and that when I’m gone, it’s my presence that is missed, and not just the things I do for people.<\/p>\n\n\n\n There are people that love me. Melissa. My kids. Michael. I have some friends. But I keep walls up. I keep some distance from everyone<\/em>, and I try to make the people that are near me happy by listening, paying attention, and giving.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I’m intuitive and perceptive, and when I pay attention to someone, I can really, truly know<\/em> them, sometimes better than they know themselves. In my mind, that’s what it is to love someone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I don’t think I let people love me the way I love them. I want to be known, but I do not open up. I don’t share like that. I want to, but I don’t know how anymore.<\/p>\n\n\n\n That’s why I don’t make new friends. Friendship is borne from trust, experience, and time. I don’t trust anyone enough to allow myself to be vulnerable anymore.<\/p>\n\n\n\n So who am I? What is it that I don’t let people see?<\/p>\n\n\n\n Those are the wrong questions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I’m not particularly special. I’m smart, perceptive, and talented. There are lots of people like me, some of which are smarter, more perceptive, more talented. I’m not actually a sealed book, nor am I always silent. I’ve been telling people all my life who I am. Showing them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The question isn’t about what I’m hiding, or how I’m keeping people at a distance. The question is, why don’t people pay attention to me the same way I pay attention to them?<\/p>\n\n\n\n It must be who I am, and what I’m saying. The fault must be in me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I’m a broken, flawed, desperate man. Is that all it is? In order to be seen, do I need to hide myself more? That’s counter-intuitive, but maybe there’s something to that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I honestly don’t know. I don’t have any answer or wisdom to wrap this up into a nice, tidy little message. This is my open journal. Ostensibly, it’s my journey as a writer, but who knows if I really have a future there. I’ll keep writing, even when hope is gone, and I’m tired and hungry for attention.<\/p>\n\n\n\n If any of this got you down, I apologize. I’m probably just being maudlin. I needed to write something tonight to try and make sense of my feelings, and hopefully feel better.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Do I feel better?<\/p>\n\n\n\n I don’t know.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Tonight, I want to really open up. No outline. No preconceived notions about which direction this is all going. I just want to talk for a little bit, and it may or may not be writing related. I feel empty inside. I don’t know how I’m still going. What does that mean? What am I […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-18026","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-general"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/briancebuhl.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18026","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/briancebuhl.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/briancebuhl.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/briancebuhl.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/briancebuhl.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=18026"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/briancebuhl.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18026\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":18028,"href":"https:\/\/briancebuhl.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18026\/revisions\/18028"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/briancebuhl.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=18026"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/briancebuhl.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=18026"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/briancebuhl.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=18026"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}