Alive.

I’m currently entertaining existential and nihilistic thoughts. Chalk it up to too many years of thinking too hard. I have a great family, great friends, great career, great coworkers. I’m a happy and optimistic nihilist. Digging up the past; looking forward. Trying not to hold myself back. 

I don’t even know if I want to share my inner thoughts. There’s a certain strangeness in the process of unblocking yourself. I feel like I’m physically dragging my creative self out into the lime light. It doesn’t want to be there. I know it needs to be. That’s a coping device to deny pain and ward off vulnerability. Not that I’m in any great pain.

I can’t say anything more than: the purpose of life is to be alive.

So, as long as I can, I’m going to wake up every day; love my family; get some exercise; paint a little; and make some jokes. I’d do some dabbling, but I just don’t think I could stick with it.

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