In Which Carnita Comes Clean About Recent Anxieties

...Aaaaaaand then I ran into Lachlan after martial arts practice today at a different taco place, and we discussed god and the economy of vital energy in the human body and his kid's developing sense of sarcastic humor. I like that guy. A lot. I wish he liked me back a bit more.

Re: Existential moment: Thinking about it all later, I think that I have a profound lesson to learn from the aloneness. I can't be sure what it means for me right now, but I think it has something to do with figuring out whether I am actually cut out to live by my principles (um, yes), and how I can shape the rest of my life to fit them. I sense a time approaching in which I will need to go deep into myself and possibly face some scary shit.

One detail of the conversation with Lachlan triggered a thought, which triggered others: to what extent can I get away with living in a world of my own imagining, in the land of do-as-you-please? To what extent should I want to? Will it feel like the work I am so intent on now has been wasted if (see: when) my perspective changes? Will change and growth invalidate the experiences I am seeking out? Why the hell would god or whatever it is give me these desires and impulses if I am expected to spend my life suffering the quiet tragedy of self-repression? Would I be less interested in sexual experimentation if I were more creative in some productive and meaningful way, a way that people appreciate more? Where does my creativity lie? What specifically is worth the expenditure of my efforts, and how do I begin to plan for long-term goals? What kind of goal-setting works for me? Was I born lazy? Am I so dull that I can't figure out what I want out of life until it's too late? What spiritual substance can I expect to be able to offer my friends, lovers, and others I meet if I have the attention span of a gnat with so many things and often feel rather thin and insubstantial? Should I even be thinking of these things in terms of what I can do for other people? Is the course of the path I had imagined myself to be on changing? Should I give myself a fucking break or should I get serious? Is love possible? If so, am I capable of truly loving? Do I even have boundaries? What does it mean if I don't? Would my consciousness then just become spread so thinly out over the whole human race that I can never expect to love or be loved in any particular way? If so, would I regret that on my death bed? What, besides sex, am I even passionate about? Is there a problem with being passionate about sex above almost all things? Why does it seem like I have nothing to talk about with "normal" people? Do I lack empathy? How does one cultivate empathy? Have I got it all wrong?

So you see, my brain is a cacophony of this sort of thing at the moment. This must be how Caleb feels.