How much do we waste our lives? Hours and hours and hours go by with nothing to show. Not that every moment needs accomplishment but wasting every minute has its toll.
I used to fill my spare seconds with creativity. Writing, composing, manipulating. Always trying to put something new into the world. I burned bright, then I burned out.
It’s still not clear to me whether my brain fog is from age, trauma, or too much drink. Whatever the cause, it’s been a hard go the last two years or so. What little bit I did create I’m not sure I’m proud of. Sure, I still see beauty, and I believe I capture it occasionally, but it’s not the same.
Time started slipping. A week stretches forever behind but milliseconds ahead. How am I almost 41? Sure, everyone says I’m not old, but tell that to my body or my cloudy mind. So much sits on the tip of my tongue but it all drowns in soupy thoughts filling my skull. Creamy soup. Not the thin broth type.
So I doomscroll. I fill my time with rot from without to match the decay from within. The world is scary. Sure there are a few laughs here and there but most of my feed tells of apocalyptic inflation, disease, and wars. Everyone has something to say about the moral failure of those who never were truly moral. It’s like we ll believed in good things, but good things don’t come from bad ideas.
And the anxiety creates more clouds. More debris for my thoughts to dodge as they swim upstream.
Occasionally, I wake up. I see the poison for what it is. Infinite distraction. I was made for more than news. I was made for something better than drowning in booze, sex, games, or dissociation. I was made to serve a God who stands above all this mess. I don’t believe He gave me a mind to pollute and distract and turn to mush.
Of course it’s easier to say the right thing than to do it. Those apps are so easy to open. What’s five minutes? Is there a better use? Undoubtedly. So I’m not going to tap that button, instead I’m going to opt for creating again. Perhaps I will burn off the fog and find a younger, more joyous man hiding in there.
Time can only tell.
