Untitled #1: "The Super i_ai_r Aphorism"
Looking back at it I have had quite an interesting perspective since I could remember. I saw words, I heard words, and I inquired; the questions I asked (which my mom never ceases to remind me of) extremely uncharacteristic of someone of my age or disposition. This is all to say that I was enthralled in existentialism by age 8 and really haven't looked back since-- although I find none of my issues being in the concept of death itself now-- I find them in the fact that time, once feeling as slow as ever, has found itself slowly speeding itself up to a pace where I can never seem to keep up. A part of this effect lies on the psyche itself, the more "time" you witness, the more accustomed you are to it; so the friction begins to slowly lower on its passage. Never reaching zero, but changing subtly enough (derivative of friction respect to time) to where one can ask themselves "where did the time go?" like a proper oldhead. But it's not like it's disappeared. It's as easy as tracing your memories (that which also form your personal identity), specifically being mindful to what has changed proportionate to what has stayed the same. It could be about you physically, how you acted in certain situations, it could even be about your shitty sports team (2020 to now: Whoops! All Daniel Jones); you can see that things very much have changed. But still, the time I allot in the present and the near-past all feels wasted. One could very easily make the epistemic argument that time can't really be "wasted" in the sense that nothing can be gained out of it-- because there always is no matter how intangible it is-- to which I say that it all feels exactly like that. I've lost track of who or what to blame, and I can only shoulder it directly onto myself. I'd like to think that depression has something to do with it, but it's something I've been dealing with for a third of my life already and as a result it's managable now more than ever. I've always felt a part of the ADHD camp, but there's nothing to show for that clinically outside of a few self screening tests, potential genetic predisposition from family, and the thousands of instances where I've delayed the most menial yet important tasks for no real reason at all. It's this constant "pushing back" which makes the time feel empty-- nothing is accomplished-- yet I feel there's very little I can do anything about it. It's a very upsetting arrangement.
There were a few things that I were able to leverage in order to make sure that the stuff I needed to do got done relatively quick. The easiest way to do so, specifically in the case of academic work, was to simply eliminate all distractions from your surroundings leaving a quiet space that allows you to affix your attention on just that. The issue is that such a place does not exist at all in my current arrangements, at least not with a lot of deliberation beforehand (seriously who tells themselves when and where exactly they're going to study in advance?) My inability to manufacture an environment like this has taken a great toll on me altogether, because academic stress weighs every other aspect of your being down. I've never felt obligated to go to any clubs or special events. The stuff that I am supposed to retain isn't being retained. I choose to study and study and study and review and review and review yet it feels like nothing properly clicks. I can understand it conceptually, and often times that's the most you'll ever get out of me. Applying said logic (especially in a testing environment) is a vicious uphill battle in comparison. I had instilled a handful of good habits for myself years prior (namely constant running/weightlifting and occasional reading), but often times that's what my days encompass. Class, eat, study, exercise, sleep. I offer myself zero room for leisure, because I feel as if there is no room for such in the first place lest I risk failure. I've come to think that maybe that expectation (essentially cutting off any sort of incentivization for my work) is a part in the gestalt of my issues with time, alongside the horrendously rigorous academic calendar. I casted the first stone and I chose this for myself. I can't complain but I can plead to have my head unsubmerged from the pond.
Yet it's more than just the present. I only account my neglect now because it's what I remember in the most vivid detail. There existed countless times in the past where I can recall the same happening. The time being "wasted" is the lack thereof accomplishment and the obliviousness towards opportunity despite it making itself most apparent. It's why I didn't letter in cross country. It's why I never ended up programming in my free time earlier in my life. It's why I have a backlog of at least 30 different things from every medium imaginable. I've got 30 paintings I haven't looked at. I've got 30 (+ 24 💖) LeBron and Stephen Curry fanfictions I haven't read yet. It doesn't matter what I do, or feel like doing, of that matter: most of my day is composed of entropy, often with little (if not zero) things accomplished out of the day that would make it more appealing. Maybe it is the depression after all. Making a change feels nice when you do it, but then nothing changes. Often times you go back to your old ways. It's too brutal for my liking. When you've had everything handed to you and it feels like you just threw it all away, what else are you supposed to think? It didn't even open a window for someone else, I just feel incredibly selfish and self-loathing in hindsight, as the only thing that could stop me from doing any one said thing was the desire to do nothing at all. I've thought about how things would be as some sort of omniscient being removed from the burden and emotion that comes with life. As it stands now, it's not like that I don't want to do anything at all forever, but there's a part of me that still finds that sort of vagrant existence desirable; the fulfillment of such coming from its inessentiality.
I've stopped comparing myself to others directly. Rather, I think "what do I not do?" in a general sense and the answers make themselves clear. It's a long road ahead.
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