signifying nothing

i made biscuits today. baking is the only hobby left i know how to do, even though it's new. i've finished reading 8 books so far this year. i do enjoy it, mostly, and there's a lot i still want to read. but i still worry that much of the time it feels like something the sort of person i want to be would do, rather than genuinely me. is that a normal feeling? people acting in a way that's more in accordance with some role they feel they should inhabit?

does that make me more interesting, if all i do is read? probably not. i can think of interesting people who aren't great readers. i think what makes someone interesting is a combination of creativity, curiosity, and just enough fearlessness to utilize the two others. is it a coincidence that i think i lack - well, not all of that. i do think i'm very curious. i want to know everything. i love being given knowledge. but i do think my lack of creativity does impede my curiosity. there are some ways in which you can't know what you don't know unless you can conceive of not knowing it, of its absence. and then god knows i have no shortage of fear.

such a common mental refrain is that i want to be more. i'm sure i'll say it many times here. maybe i hope that reading will spark something new in me, or will begin to place enough puzzle pieces that i'll be able to know what's left to fill in.

it just hit me how funny it is that my whole last blog back in ~2011 was about trying to be less, and now it's all about trying to be more.

what even is my aim here? is this just masturbatory introspection? probably. i - i'd say i wanna find my voice, but i think i only have a voice. i am only method, no substance, and i always have been. i was an art major with no inspiration. i loved assignments. i've always said i'm about execution, not ideation. picking an essay topic would always cause a minor breakdown.

i wonder who i'd be if school had been different for me. if it had gone either of two other ways. if i had either learned how to work, developed discipline and a capacity for hard work, or if i'd not been so concerned with being right all the time, with being perfect. if i had only knew how fucking imperfect striving for it would make me. i'd be less afraid of failure, and wouldn't be constantly searching for the right answer. i deeply resent the disservice school has done me.

i just want to be enough. i want to be enough for KW, and maybe that'll be enough for me.