What I've been struggling with lately is what it means for me to be human.
Gaff: [voiceover] "It's too bad she won't live! But then again, who does?"
Tonight, it got me thinking that all too often it seems like I'm just sleep-walking through life. Especially lately.
Batty: "Quite an experience to live in fear, isn't it? That's what it is to be a slave."
Fear of failing. Fear of succeeding. Fear of change. A slave to conformity.
Is this really what I'm meant to do? Does it matter what we do each day to pay the bills? I think it does ... and I always have. I've quit jobs that paid better because I do not like others controlling what I do. I like having the responsibility, good and bad, for the choices I make and the actions I take.
I'm doing a job where I have all the control, but am I happy? This is not what I see myself doing for another 10 or 20 years.
I jump in and out of the lives of those friends I consider close. With those friends I've been lucky enough to encounter on the internets, my output and interaction is sporadic.
As a person of 43, should I have this all figured out?
What does it mean to be alive for me? I think it means to be constantly learning, to be intellectually engaged, to try and make my little corner of the world better than I found it, and to be someone my son would be proud of.
I don't really know if I'm succeeding on any of those counts. I guess it says something that I'm asking the question.
"... All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to die"
