2002-01-16 - 12:50 p.m.
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Um... it was my big sister's birthday today. She turned 27. It's a number I've always liked because it's 3 to the power of 3. Anyway.
Um, I was thinking today that maybe my problem is dilettantism; I'm a bit interested in lots of things but never develop an obsessive interest in one thing in a way that would enable me to be exceptional at it. This is why I'm sort of panicking now that I have to commit myself to seriously being an academic; what am I going to do when my interest in this stuff fades out? I was thinking also that this is the same problem I have in my relationships - I am passionately interested for a while, and then I want to move on. On the positive side, it stops me from being a stalker/obsessive creepy admirer from afar, but on the bad side it means nothing lasts, but I lead people to expect it will last.
I'm so bored with myself.
What was the other thing? I was watching an old episode of Buffy tonight, the one where Oz leaves Willow, and watching Willow's face dissolve in tears, and I was thinking about the power in the powerlessness of strong emotion... when things were really bad with J, toward the end, when we were fighting and screaming and crying and having long, slow conversations through thick, awkward painful silences, that there was this incredible release when I was crying, that I was getting out some foul festering thing inside me and being renewed by the tears... I was thinking how much I need that. I need that. I need to cry. I am one of those stereotypical men who never cries. I wish I'd never learned how to restrain it. I don't know how to unlearn it. All the crying I've never done... I'll never catch up now.
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"Man, I'm just tired and bored with myself" - Bruce Springsteen