"Free time" is a misnomer, because every moment that you're not working, you're costing yourself time, and time is precious, and should therefore be spent working.
Yeah, right. Because we all know that the one thing most people regret on their deathbed is not having spent more time at work.
I like working just fine. In my "free time" I'd rather make music, write in my journal, see friends or go on dates, cuddle with a beautiful woman and smell her hair or maybe just take a stroll through nature and get a sense for the hardly fathomable Universe I am a part of.
I don't know you. But your posting makes it seem like you are working hard in order to distract yourself from the fact that you're a pathetic philistine.
I used to be passionate about the arts, passionate about enjoying nature, good company, good food, travelling, enjoying life, and all the rest that matters.
I've flogged it all out of myself, as if I don't, it just depresses me that I don't get the time to do the things I love. Instead, I've convinced myself that the only thing to love is work, which my slowly but surely insane-turning mind rails against, continually, as I've ended up finding it impossible to care about anything, either way.
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"Free time" is a misnomer, because every moment that you're not working, you're costing yourself time, and time is precious, and should therefore be spent working.
Yeah, right. Because we all know that the one thing most people regret on their deathbed is not having spent more time at work.
I like working just fine. In my "free time" I'd rather make music, write in my journal, see friends or go on dates, cuddle with a beautiful woman and smell her hair or maybe just take a stroll through nature and get a sense for the hardly fathomable Universe I am a part of.
I don't know you. But your posting makes it seem like you are working hard in order to distract yourself from the fact that you're a pathetic philistine.
I hope I'm wrong, for your sake.
See my comment in reply to singular.
I used to be passionate about the arts, passionate about enjoying nature, good company, good food, travelling, enjoying life, and all the rest that matters.
I've flogged it all out of myself, as if I don't, it just depresses me that I don't get the time to do the things I love. Instead, I've convinced myself that the only thing to love is work, which my slowly but surely insane-turning mind rails against, continually, as I've ended up finding it impossible to care about anything, either way.
I see. Your situation is more complicated then and not wholly of your choosing.
This is something to be sorted out, and I hope you'll manage to do so sooner than later.
Take care.