Lost souls, that is what we all are, with no idea about why we are here or where we need to go. We spend our days searching for something, searching for ourselves.
The lucky ones are those living in sweet ignorance. They need not fight every day. They only live each day and are content. I was never able to be like that. I question what every day brings and what is that I have to do. I question everything. It’s not the best way to be, but it’s the only way I know how to be.
Each day comes as a gift and a curse. A gift, because it might bring what I’m searching for, or at least a piece of the puzzle, and a curse, because most days leave me as confused as I was when they started. I end up having to provide my own answers to the questions that trouble me. Sometimes I get the answer right and sometimes I don’t.
I move forward and I move backward, sometimes with no control at all. It’s not even close to how I thought my life would be, but it’s all I have to work with. I see no other way except moving through each day believing everything will fit into place. It is the only way to keep my sanity and to keep me doing what needs to be done.
I never thought you can get caught in a moment, but here I am. I have no idea where to go so I can make progress, any progress. It seems any path I start on closes before I can find something useful. Every time I step out of line so I can change perspective and try doing things differently I’m slapped back in place by life.
I’m a blessed man, still, it bothers me to not be able to make progress. I’m confident I will find a way to move things forward, but my patience is ending and the more time passes the harder it gets to keep patience.
The last couple of days went in a blur. It’s like they didn’t happen at all. I am tired of doing things other people need. I want to do what I want to do, what I need. It might be childish, but I feel like I’m starting to cave under the responsibilities trusted to me.
There are so many things I want to do, so many things I need to do. These two don’t always match. I’m torn between the right thing to do and what I want to do, but in the end, I hope to choose right. At least that is what I believe. Once I manage to clear my thoughts, I’ll be able to move again. The world has no time for my whining.
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