I must have begun a dozen entries over the last month, only to tear them out of this book and toss them into the fire as my feelings violently swung from one extreme to another. At this rate of indecision, I’ll soon have to rebind this thing.
The choices that we make are what defines us as human beings. In the last few weeks, I’ve gained considerable insight into my self. Avenue after avenue of making a difference in this world has been presented to me, and one by one, I’ve turned away
from them. I look at the man reflected by these choices, and I’m not sure I like him very much at all.
At times, I think that I have proved that my selfishness remains my defining characteristic, that those optimistic dreams I had of becoming a better person were just more ego-saving delusions. I have chosen love over duty; how can that be the choice of a good man?
But at other times, I think it is the least selfish decision I’ve ever made. That I was a fool to believe I had something unique to contribute, any reason to think I was somehow essential. In that light, this is the first time in my life I’ve put someone else before my own desire to be valuable and worthwhile.
I don’t anticipate that this dilemma will be resolved any time soon; instead, I hope that it will lose its power to wound me as it recedes into the distance. Time will show that the consequences of my decision were hardly so grave, and that there must be some way I can do something meaningful with my life.
There’s more I wish to write on that topic, but… isn’t it funny? I’m too paranoid to put some thoughts to paper even in cipher in a journal I keep hidden somewhere secret. I laugh at my instincts even as I resolve to obey them in the future; old habits are loath to die, one supposes.
Well, then, onto secrets dangerous only to my… pride? Frankly, I don’t know why I keep my involvement with the almshouse secret at all. Perhaps I don’t want people thinking it’s some sort of condescending publicity stunt. Either way, it’s just about ready now and I’m very eager to see its work begun. I wonder if the Order’s willing to fund the staff? It cost an obscene amount of money to retrofit, more than I’d have expected, and there’s no reason I should limit its scope out of some absurd desire to finance the entire project out of my own pocket. I don’t regret the cost, though. If it achieves its mission at all, it’ll be worth it.
I will do -some- good for this city; I will not be satisfied until I have. If certain methods are unavailable, that does not mean my hands are completely tied.
…I seem to always end these with some sort of grand declaration, followed a few entries later by something along the lines of ‘well, that didn’t work out!” Let’s break up that pattern with some sort of plan I actually can complete.
Alright: I’m going to take Beauty out and wrestle in the backyard, and then we’ll go on a long run for no reason other than that we can. Isn’t it an amazing blessing to only have to run when you actually -feel like running-, as opposed to because somebody is chasing you wanting something you nicked back?
Not that I’ve ever done anything like that.
Nope.
