I have to keep writing. This is a recurring theme.

It's a problem, though, because I am afraid. Afraid of being vulnerable–with myself, with the internet.

I spent some time today thinking about social pressure and asking myself hard questions about what it is that really matters in life. What motivates me? If I am honest, I don't like the answer.

Part of me forgives my brain for being so preoccupied with external measures of success and prestige. This is the by-product of six million years of hominid evolution, after all. It's survival: earn acceptance (avoid rejection) or suffer the consequences.

Another part of me knows that there is a different way to live, if only I could work up the courage. It would be so liberating to unshackle myself from the pillars that I am so tightly bound to, especially subconsciously. Why not just give myself the freedom to live in the world that I create?

Part of the difficulty stems from having a rational voice that has been settling in to my mind with increasing stubbornness as I get older. There is only so far I can go before I get uncomfortable and my self-deception alarms start sounding.

Is there a divine plan for everything? I think no. Is everything exactly as it should be? I think yes.

The trouble then is integrating this kind of knowledge with the realities of every day life.