Recreating Self

I wrote this as an email a couple of days ago. I've been trying to keep the two separate but I haven't been writing much of either with my focus being school right now so I figured screw it.


Something was getting lost in the pursuit of
structures and ideas. The personal touch he had once
prided his writing on was now being submerged in
academic entanglements. The warmth and security he
once felt when writing about himself and others had
now become mysterious and violent. There was no solid
ground in the everyday activities of his world. At a
time when his mind was growing and changing and being
constantly exposed to a wealth of different music,
film and literature his personal life had become a
stagnant cornucopia of meaningless events strung
together with thin lines of optimism of a near distant
future that could not come soon enough.

That's about as accurate a description as I could make
of my life right now. I go out a lot. My mind is
accepting and expanding a whole lot. Yet, I dunno, I
feel like a person that is detached from himself. I'm
not sad OR happy. I just am. At times I'm
enlightened by ideas and at other times I'm enraptured
by the moment. I get my work done. I have fun with
my friends but there is just something lacking. Me,
I'm lacking in my life. I don't know where I am
anymore. Where have I gone? Sometimes I say things
and I'm not quite sure if I really mean it or not.
And it's not that I'm trying to lie. It's that I
really don't know. I guess maybe it's just something
to be said. It's like something has taken over my
mind and is using it for more useful purposes. It has
decided that I was just holding him down, so he
dispersed of me and started pursuing his own agenda.
Oh my, "I am Jack's bleeding desires".

I think I've been letting others do my imagining for
me. But instead of embracing their visions for the
created world that they are presenting to me, I'm
analyzing the structure of the plot. I'm identifying
the importance of the characters in the telling of the
story and what significance each action has on the
following action and noting why certain things work
and others don't. I'm embracing the camera's
different angles and movements and wondering about the
type of camera being used and whether there are
special lenses or filters added to it. I'm relating
the film's themes and form to others that I know have
come before it and comparing them to examples in
literature. I'm commenting on the music and sounds
that fit and don't and realizing the exact moment that
a suspension of disbelief has been reached and why. I
enjoy the films I watch and the books that I read and
definitely the music and sounds that accompany it all
but I'm not present in any of it, or if I am, I
realize that I am and stand back a look at myself as
though I'm a voyeur looking on my own life. It's all
become a big show and I'm watching myself act in it.

I guess I just… don't, exist anymore. I'm an illusion
of a me I once was and, at present, a me that I've
never met. There's no meaning as it pertains to self
anymore but a meaning derived in hopes of creating new
meaning which in turn is creating a new self that
hides in shadowy doorways waiting for the right time
to attack my body and stage a complete coup. Is that
all growth is? Am I growing? Is growth just a losing
of one self and the gaining of another, completely
different self? And if so, what happens to the old
self and where does the current self go during that
time of growth? When does the old self become the
current and the current become the new?

It's been some time now since I've tried to find my
current or developing self. I guess I just miss the
search. That's what these emails are usually about.
It's my search. But what is there to write about if
you've already found what you've been looking for?
What happens when all your "selves" converge and there
is no past or future but a fleeting present? Nothing.
Actions occur, days go by and eventually you get out
of the army and travel up and down the United States
in a car with a sunroof and a good friend.