what is the point in any of the things I do? I've spent years learning things I'm interested in for the sake of it. I was really dedicated for a while to learning philosophy and math and science. Lately I find myself disappointed in my life though. I don't feel like I've learned enough, but I don't see the point in it anymore. I'm not driven by fascination as much as I used to be. Learning things feels like it isn't going to make my life better either.

Math is really cool. Abstract things are just inherently interesting to me. But I don't see what the point is in deriving truth values of statements about increasingly subtle and sophisticated logical games. Perhaps this is a sign of age. I feel ready to be done with this life sometimes. But I think I've simply made a mistake.

I think I've discovered that there is more to life than interesting things. I'm disappointed with the choices I've made. I don't know what other choices I would prefer I made, but I know I can't go on living life this way. What the alternatives might be I don't know, but I desperately want to know.

I used to want to be someone who was able to do a lot of tech stuff and be really creative. I don't really care about this stuff beyond idle fascination anymore. I used to want to be similarly resourceful about logic and philosophy and to never get taken in by one of the seemingly endless supply of grifters out there. I wanted to be someone with a valuable mind. So I set about learning everything I could, thinking always about the best way to learn things. Though I don't claim I knew or know what I was doing in that regard.

Years have passed. I fell in love, and lost that love too eventually, but still kept in my heart the desire to learn and to live a life of interest to me. This happened twice actually, and I'm friends with only one of them but it's the one I like better. While I felt disillusioned with things after each heartbreak, it pales in comparision to how I feel now. The disappointment is sharper now. There's no failure or other unrelated and depression causing change that brings these feelings on, in fact my life is looking up and exciting.

I simply don't see the point in being interested in things anymore. So what if I might understand a few things few people in human history ever have or will? So what if I've got a million interesting projects that all tie together my different interests in original ways? So what I have a fascination with the stars and the waves and the beautiful things we write and paint? These feelings can be satisfied and amplify and entertain me sure. They can bring me the most intense joy I have ever felt. But eventually, the emptiness always comes.

What goes up must come down they say. But is that it? is life just a trade-off, a loop? Is there more than just fascinations? Is there joy that truly lasts? Joy, and commitment, that doesn't get obliterated by losing focus or becoming tired, but that helps us weather the pain life can bring, even when it is only a memory of that joy or its promise.

I don't know. I hope so. I hope I just haven't discovered who I am yet. I hope I'm just immature and am learning I've put too much stake in my own ego.

Maybe it's about helping others. Maybe striving to do something to directly make society better will give my life meaning, true meaning. And maybe I can still have my little fixations with things, but have something real that helps when I don't feel up to puzzling a problem out or creating something cool.

A few hours passed and I'm looking through a stack of papers I may throw away or organize (it's gonna be a bit of both). It's exciting to see something I forgot about. I want to dive into them. But something stops me. It feels like fear. Because I remember how I just felt and I don't want to go back there. I don't want to go back until I've figured out what I'm doing. Does that mean a plan for a few things I can look at to feel some joy? Or does that mean an idea for how I want to live my life? I'm not sure.

There isn't any need to rush. I'll do what I'll do.