Living Life Too Deep

When I first started posting a little over a year ago, I had the hopes of becoming famous. I’d have a ton of followers, people would love every post I wrote, and perhaps I’d make some money doing something I loved.  That naive hopefulness wore off quickly as I could barely even get people I knew to read, much less strangers. Posting on social media sites felt like narcissistic self-promotion, and although I enjoyed the extra traffic, I already hated that aspect of social media and wanted to do no part with it. (What a hypocritical statement; I posted my last post on Facebook.) Somewhere around the beginning of the new year, I decided that writing solely for an audience was the equivalent of soul-selling, a trait already exhibited too much through the education system and grades, and I sought a new purpose to blogging. Gradually, posts became more and more about issues relating to my own life, although they were still a little detached,  referencing big issues without any of the specific details. I tried to stay away from teenager angst and drama in pursuit of something that I could look back on later without wanting to stab myself. Also, I didn’t particularly have that much angst or drama to write about. 

During this transition (and even today), I had one blog that I admired and aspired to be like. I’m not going to link it here, but I shamelessly stalked it. She started writing in high school, and her blog has been going for 6 years already, creating an archive of thoughts throughout college and beyond. It’s a relatively quiet corner of the internet, but it’s full of theories on life, identity problems, stories of her travels, sporadic outbursts, noteworthy anecdotes, and many long posts on reading and philosophy. That’s the kind of record I want to create with this blog– an unfiltered stream of thoughts through the “growing up” process that outlasts anything I create in school. Although I will probably never align myself with the humanities professionally, the very miracle of consciousness is becoming more and more fascinating to me, and what better person to observe it on than myself? The humanities have become so dry-cut in education–what happened to analyzing the “human” aspect of it?  Learning about the world is a never-ending process, and an blog provides an informal platform on which to document my progress.

However, looking back on all of the posts I wrote for NaBloPoMo, none seem to provide the level of introspection and depth that can compare to the ones on her blog. (Yeah yeah, I know I should be congratulating myself simply for finishing and stop comparing myself to others. Go away.) Perhaps it hasn’t been long enough to draw out any significant conclusions, but I want to demand that that train of thought out of my posts from now on. My young age may make that difficult if not impossible, but I will squeeze out everything I can.

Someone once told me I was “living life too deep,” and I don’t deny it at all, nor am I ashamed of it. After realizing the complexity of the world around us and the forces that shape our surroundings, I don’t see any reason not to take life seriously and be an observer of the universe. Of course, one of the downsides of watching from the sidelines is that I’ll never get to create anything, hence the problems with intellectualism, but that’s a problem to deal with later.


One thought on “Living Life Too Deep

  1. Oh the constant balance between those who observe and record and those who do, both are necessary for history


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