My name is Justus and I have a problem

Ever since I was a young boy, I’ve been a little bit obsessive. Or maybe more than just a little bit. Passion was just something that coursed through my veins and I am no different now. What the hell am I talking about? My lack of ability to sustain interest in one activity or issue for a prolonged period of time.

Some people know from a very young age what they want to be when they grow up. I changed my mind every 4 or 5 months. Now you’re probably thinking that sounds fairly normal. But you didn’t know me. For example, I went through an “Ancient Roman” phase. During those months, I proceeded to sign out every book in the library on the topic as well as order books from other libraries in the area. I probably read each one twice. I also made plans to become a historian and specialize in the field. At recess time, I made all of my friends play Greeks vs. Romans (not sure how I managed that as I wasn’t a very commanding child). I still have plans for a scale model of the ancient city of Rome. Guess what I was for Halloween? Yes, I was a Roman centurion. And then overnight I lost interest. I would pour so much time and energy into this one thing and be devoted to it so whole-heartedly that I wound up running it into the ground. I still do the same thing.

Since taking up longboarding, I have logged a ridiculous number of hours on Internet forums, learning about the nuances of the equipment and mastering the terminology. I haven’t killed this one for myself yet. At the end of every term I contemplate switching programs or starting over altogether. A pretty girl waltzes past and suddenly I can’t seem to think of anything else for the next month until I finally just forget about her. It’s just the way I function. Take a look at my blogs! I started The Not-So-Daily Herald on a whim and then got hooked. A few months later it was beginning to really live up to it’s name and it eventually began collecting dust. Fast forward a few more months and I decide to start again with this blog. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

If I’ve learned one thing from the Existential authors in my French literature class (which I haven’t, I’ve actually learned quite a few things), it’s that you are completely and entirely free. Free to do what you want and therefore totally responsible for your actions. I can’t say or do something because “that’s just the way I am” or “that’s how I’ve always been”. My identity is not static; I am transforming who I am with every action I take. I guess what I’m trying to say is “no more bullshit excuses”. I’m also trying to say that I’m not giving up on this blog. Not yet. I have plenty to say and no reason to keep my mouth shut.

If this feels like a “re-inventing myself, watch out world” kind of post, it kind of is. But only kind of. Because every time I find a new passion I try to reinvent myself. We’re trying to break the cycle here, not perpetuate it. Which is why I won’t make some ridiculous, “I’m going to post everyday” promise. Instead, I’m going to say something when I feel I have something to say. I have my tumblog for all that other stuff.

What should I write about next, girls or swearing?