Why no posts in a month? Because what is there to talk about? I mean, there’s lots, actually, like how the United States government is continuing to completely dismantle its own power structures and in turn destabilize the global economy, but that’s the kind of thing I’m trying not to post about here.
But recently, I watched a YouTube short where the creator talked about how their particular hobby is really just an outlet for them to be sincerely self expressive, and it got me thinking. Have I every really truly been that sincerely “myself?”
Like, I’m pretty comfortable with my identity. I know who I am (I think), or at least, I’m pretty good at seeing things and knowing what I’m not, if that counts. I know what I value, and I generally keep my main interpersonal interactions in circles that have similar values.
However, I’ve never experienced what I see other people experiencing – that pure, unadulterated joy at being around “my people”. Luckily, I guess, that means I also don’t get that depression that comes with that sort of event ending. Hell, this year, the end of Gen Con was probably the most casually the convention ever wrapped up for me – Sunday night dinner, loading up the car, driving home Monday, and back to work on Tuesday. I wasn’t sad to be back at work; I just sat down and got back to what needed to get done.
I don’t have a particular style (and trying out different ones just feels like cosplaying). I’m not compelled to create (making art just doesn’t interest me; I’ve made a handful of videos that seemed ok – the closest thing is probably writing on this site). There just isn’t anything inside me dying to get out (aside from an occasional shitpost, which I should probably put out there more).
I came of age during a time when sincere self expression was “cringe” (although I don’t think we were commonly using that word in that way). Did I somehow condition myself out of it and unlearn how? Am I really just a bland husk of a person? My friends think I’m totally cool, right?
But then again, I’ll be 42 in a month, and I’ve made it this far. Am I just hitting that mid-life “what am I even doing?” phase? I don’t really need more things to do; half the time, I don’t even feel like doing the things that I actually do. (Game night? Fun, but so far away. Curling? God, the traffic… Magic? Sure, but it takes so long and eats into the little time I have just to maintain my miserable existence as it is.)
Whatever. I’ll keep doing the things I do like, and I’ll worry about whether I’m doing them sincerely enough later. It’s fine.
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