A time that stands still

I had that dream again last night. The one where I’m taking a final exam, and I don’t know any of the answers. I just sit there agonizing for the three hours and can’t make any progress. And it’s open book, too.

Maybe it wasn’t a dream and I’m just remembering that real analysis final.

It’s just been one of those weeks. Waking up and getting to work has been a chore, and I’ve come very close to calling in sick a few days. The work this week has been depressingly unproductive and unfocused. I feel like we’re grasping at straws on this project. Hopefully we’ll arrive at some definitive conclusions soon, but I’m running out of steam and ideas.

The agony of waiting for promotion results has also set in. I think we find out next week. I’ll either be really disappointed or somewhat relieved. In either case, I could probably use a drink. I feel like the only reason why I want a promotion is so that I might have enough money for the down payment on a house next summer. It would also be a self-esteem boost, which might be useful right about now.

The bouts of loneliness seem to be more constant lately. I know they come in cycles and that I’ll probably be some imitation of fine in a few days/weeks, but sometimes I wonder. We try so hard to make our lives meaningful, but for what? The feeling of utter isolation really destroys my will to do anything. It really sucks when it happens in ballet class. When reality seeps into class, all hope is lost. I’m pretty sure having the life sucked out of me also puts me off balance physically, so it snowballs rather quickly from there. I think the only bright spot is the pdd class, although I’m still embarrassingly bad at partnering, and girls are still scary (frighteningly beautiful, etc.).

I’ve been re-watching Cowboy Bebop lately. It’s definitely my favorite TV show, and I’m not convinced that anything will ever replace that crown. Although it has me thinking about one of its themes, viz. our relationships with our pasts. That a show over 10 years old is still holds the crown (although I’m not a large TV consumer by any means) seems to me a bad sign — I refuse to believe that the art of show creation is not advancing at least a little bit over time. Perhaps nostalgia at this age is too soon, or perhaps the prime is already over.

I think that we try to live our lives without regrets, but there will always be some things we would wish to change. Life isn’t perfect; far from it. The world is out to get each and every one of us, and it will succeed with probability one because it has all the time and we have little.

At times like this, I wonder exactly what the hell I’m doing with my life. By many metrics I should have nothing to complain about, and yet I still have this deep dissatisfaction which threatens to undermine me. The feeling of mental inferiority (at work) and physical inferiority (at ballet) is really beginning to take its toll. Sometimes I feel so lucky to be around such talented people, but sometimes I just feel like shit. I just feel like giving up these things I do, to cast everything aside and start anew. Do I have some deep-seated desire to rework my past into something less uncomfortable? Was my past that uncomfortable to begin with?

Maybe it’s pointless to think about these things. We live and then we die. No amount of rationalization can reconcile our mortality with our fears.

I forgot where I was going with this. I think there was going to be something about how living with constant reminder of the past is no good, although not having anything in the past is probably also not good. But if we don’t think anything of the future and don’t enjoy the present, then maybe life isn’t worth it. Time is always flowing, and we ride along its currents.