Parable (spoken like a true addict)

My last entry got some feedback that had me confused, but when I re-read it I realized that it was perfectly natural for people to misunderstand what I'm saying, since I'm saying it so clumsily with such an ambiguous frame of reference.

It also made me think up a parable:

(Beginning of parable)

"You know, guys," John said to his drinking buddies, "I think I may have a drinking problem."

There was a moment's silence. Then, one by one, they got out their wallets and gave him some money. They started recommending some of the hip new bars in town and some interesting drinks they'd tried recently. This was not at all malicious on their part; it had simply not occurred to them that "I may have a drinking problem" could mean anything other than: "I'm not sure where I'll get my drinks tonight." Meaning that he may be broke, or bored with the same old same old.

The idea that he may be wanting to QUIT drinking does not enter their minds.

(End of parable)

What I was trying to say with my last entry is that there is no real purpose that drives anything that I do, except a restlessness that has more in common with an addiction than anything else. I say that "I do not move forward", but I don't mean that I have writer's block. What I mean is that I keep wanting to quit all my senseless activity (writing, music making, and pretty much everything I do except for the simple tasks with which I earn my living), and I do manage to put certain projects to a halt, but yet I am compulsively driven to continue in this meaningless cycle of doing worthless things for no good reason.

It is no wonder that someone who reads it interprets it as being writer's block or something, and recommends books on how to find ways to let my creativity flow again. But I don't want to let it flow. I want it to dry up. I want to be at peace. I want to learn the ways of silence and inactivity, and not with some paradox in mind such as learning the ways of silence in order to talk to others about what I've learned from silence. I want to be someone who does not need to create or achieve or even communicate anything at all ever again, just like a tired alcoholic wants to be someone who does not need to drink ever again.

You can tell that it's an addiction by the fact that I'm even writing this entry. I'm like the guy that says he'll stop smoking "after this one last cigarette," because he sees he's gonna need a lot of strength to quit, and cigarettes have been his go-to source of strength in the past. I can't just "take it" that my previous entry (another compulsive work of an addict) was misunderstood; I feel the need to "straighten the record" one last time. I can't just "go silent" without first TALKING about going silent, which means it'll never get done.

I have the opposite problem of most people I talk to. Most people I talk to say they want to achieve something (write a book, record an album, etc.), but have a hard time actually doing the writing and recording. I was like that myself for a long time. It was as if I wanted to be a writer without actually having to write.

But now it is the opposite. Now I want to stop doing things, and can't. In a way, I've made some progress by gradually cutting back how much I actually do, but I still obsess over it, and have a strong curiosity and vague guilt about not doing more (see my entries on where my time goes).

I'm so half-hearted. If I really wanted to quit, wouldn't I delete this blog? Since I'm not ready to do so, I guess I value all my communicating more than I say I do after all.

This is the long, painful process of kicking an addiction. The pain of staying the same has to become greater than the pain of change.

I hope today's entry was no fun at all to read. That'll make things easier.