"I Don't Have Much To Say"

I keep reading the blogs of a few of my friends, and it seems they've all got profound things to say. Witty things. Deep, personal, introspective things. I really...don't, right now. I could talk about how I'm still waiting to hear from Ohio State, but there's only so much you can say about the mail not having arrived yet. I could talk about my Master's Thesis, but I really haven't done anything new with it since I last mentioned it.

It's not that my life is going nowhere. On the contrary; I like to think that my life is getting ready to go in a very new direction, possibly into the northern midwest. There's just nothing particularly bad, or spectacular, or anything at all really worth writing about.

This is Jack's boring existence, to paraphrase Fight Club.

I guess I could always whine about being single, but after a while, that gets old, y'know? The circular arguments, the self-questioning, the self-pity...none of it actually gets me anywhere. I'm tired of thinking about the same things over and over. I'm tired of not having anything worthwhile to contribute to some perceived dialogue with all of humanity.

Maybe I'm just tired of being boring, mellow Chuck. But it's not that I don't like who I am. On the contrary; with only a few exceptions, I am very content with who and what I am.

And maybe that's the problem. Maybe I'm complacent. Maybe I've worn myself into a groove and a rut, a way of existence and existing that never really breaks out and does anything spontaneous anymore. My life has become predicatable. Some might go so far as to call it mundane, and you could probably make a fair argument for that.

Funny thing is, I'm pretty happy, for the most part. When I'm happy, I don't really have a whole lot to write about.

The Muse is fickle. It's like, in order to play the blues, you have to have experienced them. In order to write about life, I have to have done something worth writing about. No one cares that I'm in the middle of playing a couple of video games, or that I watched Fight Club last night after work.

In his song "Watching the River Flow," Bob Dylan sings, "What's the matter with me?/I don't have much to say." That's sorta how I feel. I keep thinking there are things I could talk about; deep, meaningful things I could mention and expound upon. I keep thinking there's somethign worth talking about going on in my life. But I can't for the life of me think of what they might be.

~chaos cricket

Song of the Moment: Bob Dylan, "Tangled Up in Blue"