On Not Knowing (What I Want)
Sometimes, as now (I think), I don't know what I want. Sometimes I'm overwhelmed or get so and then I can no longer decide what I want, even if I could recently. Or perhaps it's more subtle and build-up than that but I have no clue!
I am rethinking my whole identity and everything I wanted or thought I did. I decided on growing my hair out but didn't quite know. Now I think it looks good how it is—not long but not really short. Would it look good long/er? Should I keep it as-is or whereabouts?
I realized I do not like computer science anymore as a career goal or main interest, and of course am second-guessing my listening to my reservations. Now, what do I like? Do I actually like art and writing or is that a passing phase or something I'll lose interest in or—
Do I like philosophy or just a certain type of it; did I buy those books to read for myself or to read and be able to say so, or to read for their supposed knowledge I "require"?
What do I not like that I think I do?
Why does it feel as though I lose interest when an interest is brought in focus? When I tell someone I like art or wish to do more, or have an idea or such, then I no longer feel motivation or the same interest as before. Once said aloud it disappears.
I once had a dream I created an amazing VR game that was somewhat terrifying and realistic. I don't remember much but upon waking I yearned to create like that—to create just that. But that was better kept in my head, I don't think I told anyone. Saying something—"oh, I want to write a novel"—removes it from your mind, it exposes the unfeasability, discourages. Or perhaps something else.
Perhaps to have it affirmed invalidates your low confidence and your doubt or knowledge of your needing to learn and... tells you you can do it now, what are you waiting for, so you stop and forget it. Chasing the unattainable or simply procrastinating, "I'm going to write a novel," versus being confronted with the truth that you need to, you must and you can or you can't, "then write it."
I just corrected a typo I had missed, it said "Ok Not Knowing," not "On Not Knowing," and perhaps I should be, as they tell me. Though how can I make choices when such is the case? How can I move forward? I don't know what I want and I can't think or do anything, I don't know what is true and real or what I like, or think.
When faced with choices and unable to make them I feel pressured and confused and do not know a thing, I question whether what I wanted prior was ill-informed of not, and whether I should listen to others, "just" or otherwise.
I don't know what I want, but I don't want to continue on, I want change or to say goodbye. It's just wholly too much (did I use that right?) I feel dizzy and confused while I have to make choices, I feel like I have no time at all and what I have is wasted. What do I wear tomorrow, who am I going to be?
I feel sometimes lile the world goes to fast, and others. I need them to slow down, I need to think, or perhaps I just want to escape and delay. Sometimes they make decisions for me, sometimes I obtain misery from not doing. There's too much to think about, too many paths, and I can't hold them all, can't take them all into account, when the majority are unsolved.
It would be so much easier to just have it away, to escape, no choices ot decisions anymore or then, and nothing to worry about, just running...
There's too much for a day and for my mind or a page or an hour a week of therapy.
I feel nauseous and did not drink enough in this heat, nor eat? I have my tasks—too many—some necessary others necessary. Some required, others I need for other reasons, to feel like I am someone, not just moving through each day not doing anything just moving just waiting, I need to write I need to create or I am nothing, am I already? I am nothing and no one if I do nothing or choose nothing, if I do so for months and years too. I need to figure my life out but I'm too sick to do so. I'm not even rightly depressed proper as an identity; I am no one.
I am cold and I am sick, sitting on my Unmade bed.
I told myself last night to not use the Shard today for it would do no good and has done only bad. I am clueless what truth or falsehood this holds, but I would feel better to not have it to blame. It takes up my time, anyway—should I throw my phone away?
I am no one and I finally feel that true.
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