Who am I living for?

[not sure if this was worth posting but… I thought I’d do the whole post/reread/change mind & make private cycle on it…]

Katy Perry is just one of many to ask the question, and for good reason – in many ways, it’s kind of the central question of human life. One could argue that all of ethics requires a way to argue for an answer that makes room to consider the lives of others to be somehow connected to one’s own – that the “who” includes more than just myself.

But on the other hand, if a person doesn’t live for their own sake as well, the result will be a life of pure suffering.

Every good story has this conflict – between the freedom of individuals, the recklessness of living a life of authenticity, the high of the total embrace of self, and the need to balance the needs of the individual with those of the group. 

So… how do we do it? Romeo & Juliet makes a case, one could argue, for the reproductive freedom of the younger generations, Freud catalogues the various ways that we repress our inner conflicts, and how they manifest themselves when they bubble up to the surface again. Jesus says love thy neighbor as you love yourself, Ayn Rand argues for a rebranded solipsism, so… who’s right? And who’s to know for certain? 

To bring it back to me, though, since that’s my only talent, um… I’m at this point where I’m trying to decide what my future looks like. And if I’m living for just myself, I’m not sure… if I would want to keep trying at all. But I’m not, I’m also living for my family and friends and my cat… which means I don’t have the option to give up on myself. So, then what? 

I guess what I’m trying to say is that at first, I did… youtube and blogging and all my bullshit, uh… when I started, it was for myself. That was all, it was the thing that kept me alive, kind of, just this little outlet that kept me motivated, that made me feel like I still existed, somehow, even when I did the best I could to hide from the world. 

But now, it’s scary. It’s not a fun little steam valve where I can say anything, there are consequences to the things I say, now, and if I were just living for my family, I would stop. If I was just living for myself, I’d probably start a channel where I myself am completely anonymous so that I could speak freely, again, even though I know there’s no escaping the consequences of the internet, really, in the end, probably… 

But I now also feel, I don’t know. I feel like I can’t just let all the work I’ve already done go to waste, I guess, maybe. Or maybe I’m just addicted to getting notifications from strangers. Or maybe I just feel like we’re all desperate to tell anyone who’s willing to listen our whole life story, our wants, our hopes, our fears, our everything… we all want to be seen. And maybe I got to a point where I was so terrified of being seen by anyone that I decided to make myself visible to everyone, because at least then I wouldn’t feel like I had made myself invisible. I could disappear from the world in the flesh, but remain as a social media hologram… or something…?

I still want to do that, to be honest. I still don’t know if I’m just not cut out for… being more than a brain in a vat. I think I’d rather be a hologram, whenever possible. And I know that maybe that isn’t healthy but I guess I just wonder, what’s healthy? It used to not be possible, if you wanted to be a shut-in and still connect with people, you had to write books or make art, you couldn’t just sit down at your computer and talk to someone halfway around the world. But now, you can. So… what’s healthier? Recklessly sharing your half-baked ideas with the internet, or cornering a stranger at a bar and giving them your entire life’s history while they politely eye the door? 

Anyway, I don’t know who I’m living for. I know that I’m too spoiled to compromise on a lot of things, that I would rather be dead than work for a cause I don’t believe in, and so on. But I also know that I’m insecure, and that I’m terrified of the possibility that there are no good options for me. That I’m just another dumb kid whose parents, with all the best of intentions, convinced them they were special, and that now I’m too childish to let go of that belief. 

But I’m also scared. And I know that no matter how hard I try, there will always be people who want to hurt me on the internet, that exposing myself online has always been as dangerous, in fact more dangerous, than real life, and that this story is probably not going to end well for me no matter which path I choose.

So then instead of ruminating, instead of acting, I freeze. Like if I can just sit still for long enough, the danger will pass, the fear will pass, the nausea will pass, but it won’t. So, what do I do? I really don’t know. I’m at sea without the slightest idea how to get to shore, and Lord knows I’ve always been prone to sea-sickness. It’s hard to keep believing I won’t die out here.