Commit Everyday

I completely lack the ability to commit once I’ve lost interest. I know it. I see the patterns. For the most part, I’m ok with my noncommittal ways. Things aren’t suppose to last forever anyway…. Are they?

I love watching good movies and shows; unfortunately, I am not a loyal viewer. I cannot watch an entire Netflix series without skipping some episodes, even when I’ve dedicated my Saturday to binge watching. I cannot remember to rush to the TV on a certain day at a certain time to catch season premiers or finales. I guess to me every episode five is just a story filler and recaps always take place when seasons begin or end. That mic button on the remote has become my friend. The greatest of all inventions! All I have to do is say a network or name a show and walah! That button was made for lazy viewers like me and I embrace it.

As much as I love to read, I do truly enjoy reading, I get bored too easily. It is not the fault of great authors; masters of subjects. They spin tales so fantastic. The problem is that my mind creates some of the most asinine subcontext that I will undoubtedly follow down a damn rabbit hole. The truth is I just prefer to skim pages. It could be that I messed up when I learned to speed read textbooks. It’s a helpful tool when you’re taking a full load of courses and have to absorb hundreds of pages of dry knowledge. The downside is that it also promotes self-induced literary attention deficit disorder. My brain would implode if I tried to read a romance novel. I tell myself to read every word, but I don’t listen to me. I try to figure out meanings within the first few words of a sentences. I see the fallacy in this logic, yet I scan pages to the literary death of me. I am an unmotivated reader.

Music? Ha! My hearing is my least devoted sensory input method. It tunes in when my brain thinks it’s curious and then tunes out as if there were no sound at all. I am that person that drives with the radio off. I never ran out and bought albums when it dropped. I’m sure I’ve never downloaded MP3s (Wait! Except audiobooks from the library app). As a matter of fact, some random U2 songs are on my iPhone and I have absolutely no idea where they came from. Eh. Whatever. I made ’em my ringtones and alarms. Why? No other reason than it was the path of least resistance for selections of musical accompaniments. I am an unimpressed musical novice.

Let’s not get into all of the half filled journals. Precious trees gave up their lives (unwillingly) so that I could dedicate the first 20 pages to a new life plan that reads quite similarly to the plan in all the other preceding notebooks. It’s like, come on! How much can you plan to plan a plan? Evidently, quite a bit over decades of journaling. I get just as tired of reading my thoughts as I do thinking them. Oh well. I am an uninspired word smith.

Wait! I can’t be that bad. Surely, I have committed my skills, thoughts, and passions to something for more than a season. I need to think of some pastime that I have done consistently and persistently over time without overlooked reminders or habits of failings that has enriched my existence like a new present everyday. Oh! I got it!

I live.