I'm back at square one, philosophically--and I hope to stay there. I decided it was time to embrace the advice that you cannot find enlightenment by searching for it. So I stopped mediating, and now I try my best not to think philosophically. I feel like a body-builder who has decided to stop lifting weights and stop eating at the same time.
I dragged myself to the gym last night and my ultimate reward was getting my neck crushed by Alex the Ukrainian killing machine. It still hurts everytime I swallow. The warm latte I'm drinking is doing little to help.
The question of what I am going to do when my contract is finished was a mere itch a couple weeks ago. Now it is more like the soreness in my throat--by turns barely noticeable in the background and severely uncomfortable and distracting. Ultimately, what it represents is the larger, question of "what the hell do I want to do with my life, anyway?"
I still don't really know, and worse, if I were to try to solve it I would just get caught up in the kind of philosophical trap that I am trying to avoid. How do people make decisions about anything?
Well there is a bit of sun left, so I might as well enjoy it.
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