All that is gold does not glitter

I'm going to level with you, and hope that gets me somewhere I haven't gotten yet.

I've been feeling guilty for not posting to my blog more often. After a brief spurt months and months ago of metaphysical exploration in the manner of Descartes (which, by the way, was very important to me at the time), the extent of my posts has basically been course essays with a few poems thrown in.

And this is not what I want.

I'm not especially busy, as the amount of time I spend on Facebook attests, so why haven't I been doing what I say I want to do with my life - talk to people through the written word and motivate change - instead of playing Scrabulous? I seem to have gotten caught up in the mechanism of my life and displaced my goals. Ugh!

This is not to say I haven't been progressing at all. I was recently informed that I am to be published in my university's literary journal. I am keeping up in my classes (for the most part) and am excited about writing an essay due next week. I have been participating in high-stress social situations and partially enjoying them (or at least going back for more). I have a new job, at which I am "kicking ass" (my boss' words, not mine). I have been keeping up with the blogs I read. So, my life is going pretty well on several fronts. Not that you want to hear about that. How people's lives are going well is not nearly so interesting as when catastrophe strikes.

But. Goal displacement. Right.

I guess what I'm trying to say is I don't understand why I can't seem to motivate myself to do this thing I know I want to do. Hypotheses, anyone?

I want to think of myself as flouting the goals and means of mainstream American society, but here I am, sitting on my ass getting high, scarfing pizza, and watching cyst videos on YouTube (which, if you have a strong stomach, can eat up hours) in between days of going to my public university and sitting through classes which really don't have any bearing on real life, when what I want to be doing is preparing organic, local, sustainably-raised quiche while talking about metaphysics with my beloved before sitting down to write poetry between the love-making and bed. After a day of saving the world.

Damn socialization to instant gratification.

So I guess my conclusion is...that I'm going to try to post more often, but give myself some slack as to the content/subject matter.