A Life Unexamined?

Was it Plato who said that thing about a life unexamined? About it not being worth much, or worth living? I can never remember the exact wording of things. Doesn’t seem really that important does it? I mean, as long as you get the sentiment, right? Anyway, a life unexamined, that is what I live. Not out of ignorance but by choice. I used to examine my life very closely, so did everyone else. I used to try to find every way possible to improve myself, could I eat better, go to the gym more, get into relationships with fewer douchebags. Not anymore, I’m tired of being my own worst critic. Now I’m just me, mistakes and all, and I love myself for it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still aware of my short comings, with parents like mine I’ll never be able to forget them, I just don’t beat myself up over them. I know that guilt isn’t going to get me to the gym any faster, but wheezing as I climb the stairs for the train will. It will happen when it happens and I can’t rush those things. When I get tired of being treated like shit I’ll stop dating guys I meet in bars. When I no longer want to spend a good portion of every day in the bathroom I’ll stop shopping at the bodega on the corner and start going to the farmer’s market on Saturdays. I look at it this way, I stopped smoking when I decided I didn’t want to die a slow painful death and have everyone I love watch me deteriorate, right? It happened to coincide with the smoking bans and me not going to bars as much, but it was ultimately my decision. We all have issues, problems, neuroses, why should we spend time dwelling on them? Why should I spend my energy on all the things that I’m not instead of thinking about all of the things that I am? There are plenty of people in this world who will be glad to tell you where you are falling short in life, let them do their job and you do yours, love who you are. Freckles and all, or is it warts?

Rage & Apathy

Rage and apathy seem to be two characteristics that have always defined me. A stark juxtaposition, yes, but true none-the-less. The ratio is not balanced though. I would say a generous estimate would be 90% apathy and 10% rage. The rage is well veiled though so it probably comes across more like 5 or 6%, but trust me, it’s at least 10%. Now countless former-lovers and therapists have theorized about the origins of my rage and have generated a few respectable theories regarding it. I won’t go into detail because I would never, in any way, want to validate the opinions of former-lovers. I am curious though, about the origins of my apathy. I never much cared about where it came from before, but as it has become and increasing presence in my life I feel I should get to know it better. Kinda’ like a cellmate. My family isn’t typically apathetic, except about those commercials for starving children, like everyone is. My parents are pretty adamant about most things, especially their politics. In fact, most family holidays devolve into some ridiculous debate over some political ideology. Not something where you could understand the conviction of both sides, like… something I’m sure both sides have conviction about, but about things that seem rather pointless. Like whether campaign donations should be tax deductible when donating to independent or tea-party candidates. (beat) The argument being that it’s really just a form of charity because they have no real chance of winning… Or the argument my mother makes against universal health care, that it shouldn’t exist if it doesn’t cover hearing aids. Not wheelchairs or seeing-eye-dogs for the blind, but hearing aids. And her hearing is great, this is just a moral stance she’s taking… on hearing aids. No arguments over the two-party system or the collapse of the free market, just silly little details. My family, and too many people in this country, just find some silly little argument to hang their hat on and then stick to it. Sometimes the arguments have merit, but mostly they don’t. It’s just people needing to feel they are right about something in their lives. I think it’s this conviction towards silly little arguments that makes me shut down. Everyone else’s lack of apathy is what causes my apathy. And my apathy towards everyone else’s convictions is what causes my rage, I think. Why can’t I get worked up over something like my mother can? Why can’t I argue pointless doctrine until I’m blue in the face? I want to have conviction too, dammit! I want something to matter to me as much as that, but it doesn’t. It just doesn’t. And that makes me angry.