People don't like thinking about those things, not knowing when anything will end. Not knowing when anything will end, people find it useless or impossible to count down the days. But they're nevertheless counting down.
I've been finding myself in conversations trying to tactfully figure out what people's motivations are. What are they doing? Why are they doing this? Instead of just floating through our lives to reach 60, 70, 80, just because we were given these lives, what is compelling us, propelling us to reach 60, 70, 80?
Sometimes it's hard to steer the conversation away from depressingness, and if it looks like it's headed that way, I'll try to dissolve it before it gets there. If a conversation on life is going to be depressing, what's the point?
I'm still counting down, but to which choice, I'm not sure. I must have a fear of making a choice, of being proactive; either positively kill myself being true to myself and understanding it and being able to explain it for myself, or wild blue yonder it and implement the monastic choice. I have good arguments either way and I'm in danger of freezing up and not doing anything.
Instead, I play games with myself, try to set tangible chains of events into motion to force a choice. This time it is giving notice on my apartment on March 1st so that by April 1st, something will have to happen. But I think if I'm giving notice on March 1st to force something to happen by April 1st, it won't be committing suicide. So counting down.
Suicide actually hasn't been feeling very tangible lately. I don't think that means anything in terms of what I do, in fact it might be a positive step towards it, in that it might indicate a loss of attachment to the idea of it. In my mind, it's less and less real, but that just might be a mini-breakthrough of sorts. But it's counting down and having no idea what's at zero.
We're at second line from the bottom of January. Counting down. Something has to happen. Something has to change.
