To say that 2022 was fucking brutal for me is an understatement! Especially for the past 6 months at work and at home I’ve been questioning my sanity and my role in this life. I had some lofty plans at the end of 2021 to carry me through, which haven’t panned out.
I lost friends and family to sickness and death, a poignant reminder that each day isn’t promised. This only fuels my fears that I’m not doing what I’m “supposed “ to do.
What is it that I should be doing, you ask?
No clue, but I know in my heart it’s not this! I’m living life, correction surviving, out of obligation to others.
I have wasted my time on the 3rd rock from the sun. I have literally wasted four decades on fruitless endeavors, dead-end relationships, and meaningless goals. As I sit in this familiar Starbucks, I wanna breakdown and cry.
I have lived and served others so I wasn’t nurturing my life’s trajectory. I have concluded that once I stripped away the tasks, and activities I have done out of obligation to others that I have a pitiful life. No wife, no children, no legacy.
I can only blame the tired old man in the mirror looking at me. This is my fault.
When my friends do a welfare check on me, my answer is the same: I’m here, I’m surviving. That’s not how you should answer, that’s not how anyone should answer. I’m simply not living life for myself; only what others need from me.
Goodbye 2022, Hello 2023
No, I won’t quote those tired phrases such as “living my best life”, and “new year, new me”. I am gonna make a more conscious effort to do tasks, events, things for myself, and by myself for self-healing.
As I zoom towards the age of 50, my Bucket List is a key source of inspiration. Perhaps stave off the desire to date, and spend the year single.
I’m in unfamiliar waters with no map and only my moral compass. I should move to a new place to start this new chapter of my life.
I generally feel alone in a crowd of friends, but I kinda always have. I might as well feel alone somewhere new.
Whatever happens in 2023, I want it to be of my design. This pity party is officially over.
Wish me luck, Spaceship Earth.
‘los; out
los, Fil-Am Renaissance Man 