Self-Reflection

I had a little self-reflexive moment today after watching Fight Club. The narrator had two personalities, and it reminded me a little of me. Some days I can’t stand myself. I just want to beat myself up, beat in a little less common sense and a little more daring. I seek adventure, but I don’t want it. I want to live dangerously, but I don’t want to get hurt. I want to live at the edge of a cliff, but I want a secure feeling that I won’t fall off. I want to drive fast through the night with the assurance I won’t crash. I play with fire, but I don’t want to get burned. Who am I? That’s the question. What do I want? I have an answer. I want to live on the edge, dabble in sin, leave my fears and inhibitions behind. I want to be irresponsible for once, I want to leap into nothingness and hope something catches me. I want to fly like an eagle, even if I may fall like a stone. I don’t know who I am. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know how to change. Maybe I should say my life sucks, because it smells of old books and rotting vegetables. It sounds like a ticking watch going and going and going and me not doing anything about it. It smells like stagnation. I want to taste the salt of the earth, smell the fresh air as I fly through it, let go of everything and just…fly. So I lied. I know what I want. I want a dabble here, a dabble there, but I don’t want to commit. But what is life without a commitment to anything? It’s empty. That’s what it is. An empty life. The smell of old books, of rotting vegetables. The smell of stagnation. I want to live, but how to live? I can die tomorrow, heck, I could die right now, and what would my last regret be? I wish I had lived. I wish I had jumped off that plane when I had the chance, I wish I had taken that cigarette when I could have, I wish I had been a troublemaker. But for what? What will it matter in the end? What will it matter if I live on the edge, or if I live as a hermit? Either way, all that will be left of me will be a memory. And that memory will soon fade too. So I’m falling, I’m dying, and through this self-reflexive exercise I’ve learned nothing. I am a hesitant, thrill-seeking, want-to-be lover of life, but I don’t take the chances I’m offered. I don’t take the adventures I want to have. I stay in my room, typing crap like this up and think to myself, I want an adventure. I wish I could have an adventure. I can blame the entire world in detail for my hesitance and my inability to grab these opportunities. But it only lands on the shoulders of one person; me. Me, myself, and I have the choice to grab opportunities, and if I don’t grab them, it’s my fault. It’s only going to be my fault and my fault alone.