Just a quick note to say I’m still here.
Writing has been something of a chore lately. Having a hard time seeing my present life come to anything but a bad end.
I keep having the vivid mental image of being murdered or executed for ideological reasons. It doesn’t help that this is both a carry over from my last life and a very real possibility.
I’ve never lived past 60 in any life I can recall. And in the past life I recall most readily, I was dead at 38.
Sometimes I wonder, why don’t I give up having any sort of convictions and just party until it kills me? But then I remember that I already tried that (in this life and the last) and it was too painful to continue after a while. Constant pleasure destroys your ability to feel anything but boredom and before you know it, you’re living with drug dealers and can’t trust the people in your own home. I don’t want to go back to that.
I need something to make the time I’ve got meaningful. Maybe I have that a little in the church but I’m always left wondering if my service there will matter as the whole world is heaving around me. In some ways, my drive to self-sacrifice – the one that got me killed in 1915- never went away. Part of me longs to throw myself into the “good fight,” even though I should know the futility of that notion by now.
I need to bring these competing drives to peace within me or my own inner conflict might kill me first.