Monday, May 03, 2004


There are a lot of thing in my life, things which I actually enjoy doing, which could be considered worthwhile or in some way productive. These are mainly things that I have thought about doing or tried to do or started at some point in my life, but most of which have never been fully accomplished. Such things include my desire to write a full length fantasy novel, learn Japanese, or finish a professionally recorded cd of my music. The strangest thing to me is that, though I enjoy these activities when I actually do them, it is one of the hardest things for me to actually bring myself to work on them. I've never understood. It's easy for me to turn on a video game, or the television. And while a bit better is the easiness with which I can open a good book (mainly fiction), it seems like most of the things that could actually have a good amount of significance for my future and for the good of the world and all that kind of cool stuff for some reason, which I cannot come to point my finger at, carry with them an unaccountable dread. Not the kind of dread one faces when one's imagination goes wild after watching Dracula, but the kind of dread an eighth grader has before having to write an English paper. Even if it's some easy English paper that can actually be fun, like writing a cool story (and now I've come full circle to my desire to write a work of fiction). It's like all the great stuff that we could be putting our minds to has the subconscious label of "HOMEWORK!" And I, for one, never want to do it. I never feel like doing it. Sure, once I force myself to do it, it can actually be pretty fun. As fun as playing Socom 2 online with a bunch of other people who are wasting their time? Perhaps not. But fun, nonetheless, and perhaps with an extra quality those other activities do not have, that wonderful sense of accomplishment. So what is it? What is it about the thought of "Homework" that just makes me go, *ugh*? Is it that I have to think? But I LIKE thinking. That's the whole thing. I have no problem devoting myself to a book full of cryptograms and puzzles, but I won't work on a great work of art. I've never been able to understand it, and though I try to motivate myself, and perhaps will find better ways to motivate myself, I still have not, as of yet, found a way to convince my subconscious mind that the productive things that I want to do are just as enjoyable as the, well, less productive things. hmmm. Just something to think about. Maybe I need to start reading some of those motivational or inspirational little notes on some feel good sort of daily calendar, where you tear off a page to reveal each day. But I really hate those things.

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