(4 minute read)

This isn’t relevant, but I’d like to mention it anyway. I usually wake up at 4:00 a.m., and the first thing I do is drink tea. The second thing is write. I don’t know why, but the urge comes naturally, and the subject matter appears in my head just as easily.

Last night, I realized how big of a novelty junkie I am. The category doesn’t matter—ice cream, sex, sports, books, instruments. Anything that’s new, I’m into it.

It’s strange because I also value depth, but if I’m always chasing novelty, there’s no space for depth to develop. Depth requires time, commitment, and focus—things that novelty doesn’t exactly allow for.

I love meeting new people. I don’t care who or what you are. You’re new to me, and I don’t know what you are, so I’m curious. Without curiosity, where’s the exploration?

Sex, for instance, is a major part of novelty for me. Yesterday, I was at REI, and this girl helped me out. She was a 8/10 on the cute scale. But honestly, it wasn’t about that. She could have been a 3/10. There was something about her that reminded me of the “whos” from How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Her energy was so distinct, it made me want to know more. And I realized that’s the common denominator for me—novelty. I don’t even care about her being cute, I care about the fact that she’s a “who” I haven’t encountered before. That novelty alone made me want to get closer.

But then I stopped myself. I told myself, When is this going to stop? All I’m doing is chasing novelty. I’m over this shit.

This happens all the time. I want to have sex with new women constantly—not because it’s just sex, but because it’s exploration. I want to try new things. Sex is amazing, yes, but it’s not just about the physical act. It’s about discovering the newness in each person—just like ice cream. People, like ice cream, come in different flavors. Each one has their own scent, taste, energy, and appetite.

But here's the thing: I’m never satisfied with just one flavor. I used to eat 3-6 pints of ice cream a week, and not just from the grocery store—I started making my own. I didn’t want to just taste ice cream, I wanted to explore every type, every nuance. And I’m realizing: it’s not the ice cream or the sex I’m chasing. It’s the novelty of the experience itself.

But as I think about this, I know there’s something deeper going on. I’ve been wondering why I’m constantly seeking out new things, and I’ve started to think that it’s about avoiding something. I’m not just chasing new experiences—I’m running from something else.

What if I stopped seeking novelty? What if I faced what’s beneath all of this? Would I feel empty, or maybe discontented? Would I be forced to confront failure as part of life?

Failure is a part of life, just like death. And it’s not just the big failures we think of, like failing a class or a project. It’s the small, everyday failures. And I wonder if I’m running from those—failing in front of others. Maybe I ditch the effort before I get ditched. It’s easier to jump to the next thing than to sit with the fear of failure.

Which brings me to commitment. Commitment is novelty’s kryptonite. I hate commitment. I consider myself a deep thinker and feeler, someone who likes to dive into the depths of existence. But maybe what I’m really committed to is not depth at all. Maybe I’m committed to suffering. Maybe these new experiences are just a way for me to come up for air, to avoid the things I really need to confront.

Maybe I’m avoiding grief. That feels right. There’s something there. I’ve been living in limbo for so long, stuck in this cycle. It’s like being a person with cancer who keeps fighting to survive, even after 20 surgeries and losing limbs. At some point, you just have to let go. Letting go is healing. There’s no healing without it. And grief? It’s the gateway to letting go. It’s something I’ve been avoiding for so long, I didn’t even realize it.

I don’t want to face the truth of my life. It’s easier to keep running, to keep searching for something new. But I think that’s the point. I’m avoiding the deep, difficult truth. I’m a bit of an extremist but I feel like I will keep running away unless I physically face it by locking myself up somewhere for a couple weeks with just water. I’ve had this idea for almost ten years now. Maybe I have to do it…