Mental Masturbation

I have so much energy right now!

I'm twenty-three, which I guess could be the physical and mental prime of my life.

Sometimes I feel like I could do more than I'm doing right now. Sometimes I feel like I could be winning awards and hob-nobbing with the famous people.

this is what they do in their free time, right?

Usually the prospect of this happening is so overwhelming to me emotionally that I block it out. But I can't do that anymore.

In my past I have had some difficulties. Some of you are aware of them, aware of their nature, and I'd like to explain them in more detail here but for the moment I'll put it off. Because the point I'm trying to make has to do with the fact that they kind of taught me to limit my expectations for myself. To get used to not excelling.
Subtext (I have high expectations for myself)

I was pissed off at it at first. And I slammed myself against the barriers that were forming in front of me, to no avail. Smart action is superior to intense action in this case, and it's something I learned over and over again. It was like being in the Winchester Mystery House, and having a general sense of where I should be, but without a map of the "house" I just kept running into dead ends.

The "intense" action in this metaphor would be banging on the walls with my fists and feet, knowing that just in the other room, just six inches away, was something that I needed, something I could use, something helpful. The "smart" action in this metaphor would be consulting a source of information regarding the layout of the house.

No matter how hard you try, thoughts will only get you so far.

Anyways here I am typing again. I talked to a guy the other night at a bar who said he was into "Making things," engineering, that kind of thing. He said he wasn't into "mental masturbation."

I'm into mental masturbation, I thought to myself. (you're reading it)

I kept talking to him and he said he was "lost." He said he was "drifting." He retired two years ago, and earlier this year, his mother, who he said was his best friend, passed away. So now he's going through the paperwork associated with the legal proceedings of this event. Never been married. Never had kids. Loves the woods.

A painting by Thomas Hill 

He goes up into the Sierras by himself for twelve, thirteen days, and fly fishes. No bullshit up there, he says, it's all so real. I told him that I sort of knew what he meant. Because I did. He said that a true friend is someone who never asks for help from you or expects help from you. A true friend leaves you the fuck alone.

I told him about the play I saw last week. I told him how it moved me. And I said with conviction, that's what I'm meant to do; I move people in that way, I make them feel how I felt during that play.

He said I'm lucky to know that clearly, at twenty-three, what it is I want to do during my life.