Just a Thought.

This is more so a journal entry than anything. It's kind of depressing, in it's own way. So just be warned.

I'm not really sure what it is that I want, what it is that I feel. My life is full of uncertainties. There's fear in places I've never felt it, emotions that I've only ever read about. There are new experiences just waiting for me right around the corner but I have failed at even making it a step. I've tried the liquid courage, but to no avail. I've never done anything even remotely close to what I'm doing now and I couldn't be more terrified. I can try so hard to discover myself, what i truly want from life, what I truly want at the moment but feelings change. Much like ourselves, they're always there but never quite the same as yesterday.
How can I be so confused, so happy, so sad, so hurt, so inspired, so ready to take on the world and so ready to stay in bed all day? How can one little thing change so much. One word can make or break your entire being for a short period of time. Maybe even for a long time. It's like your life is hanging on by the strings of a wad of balloons. Each disappoint is a string cut, each adventure is a balloon being filled. You're never sure how many strings will be cut before you fall and you're not convinced that you can catch yourself once you do.
Life is uncertainty. We live each day trying to make ourselves believe that we know what's happening, that we're in control, that our lives are not floating somewhere high in the sky with our only lifelines being cut one at a time. But deep inside, we all know that there's only a matter of time before those balloons are out of air, before we're out of lifelines, before we're done.
And that, that's not even the hardest part.
We're so wrapped up in believing that living a full life is what's important that we are usually the ones severing our own strings. One by one, we're slowly causing our very own downfall. And if that's not a scary thought, I'm not sure what is.
Yeah, living life to the fullest is important. What is life if you never really lived. But these feelings, this hurt, this confusion, anticipation. Is this what we meant by living?

Reviews

[Samuel Dickens]

This is some good, competent writing. I couldn't guess how many others may have been in this place you describe, but believe I have. It's a bit like being on a ship at sea, battered by a terrible storm. You can't steer it, you don't know where it'll end up or when the storm will cease. All you can do is hang on and try to be prepared for whatever comes.