Decay

I generally try to veer away from speaking about myself on this blog, since, quite simply, my existence is pointless and uneventful (at the moment), but there are a few recent changes in me that I wished to take note of here.

First off, one new phenomenon of concern to me is that I seem to have become far more boring than I once was. I used to be more of a waxing wellspring of thoughts and ideas, and now...everything seems a lot more self-evident to me, and better off not said. In fact I have been away from the companionship of friends for so long that I've forgotten what my personality was like. If I do come in contact with friends, it's more of an effort to recreate my old personality than spontaneity. Ah, the curse of age! if one does not ensure that they do not get swollowed up by the mundane...

Not that that's what preventing me from writing here more frequently. I have endless things I wish to write about. The only factor preventing that is lethargy, my great foe.

Another disturbing change in me is that these days I find myself in a constant state of jealousy. Of everyone. I find it particularly disturbing because I, in fact, always had trouble understanding the sin of jealousy. I would always be the one to bless my brother in my heart, and I never even understood what purpose there was in beating yourself up over something someone else has and you don't; it doesn't get you any closer to attaining it. It seemed to me to be bringing grief on oneself for no good reason. Yet now, I am perpetually consumed by it and find it unimaginable not to feel the way I do.

And lastly I'm also questioning my interest in parenting children in the near future. While I do, of course, want to raise up a new generation on the purity of proper idealism and continue my dynasty, on the other hand caring for children seems to be an unspeakably great burden from which one can never escape, and which in effect stops a person from living their own life. Even the near future would seem too early for me to give up my life. Every time I thinking of having children I think of these men I used to see in Bene Brak, bearded, dressed in suits and black hats, sweating and pushing a baby carriage through the sweltering streets of Bene Brak in the summer. What man wishes such a thing upon himself? What man does not wish to take some time to explore the world and its knowledge? And such things cannot be done with a child.