Saturday, September 10, 2016

Stuck, Not Even In The Middle

Middle finger maybe. Ever heard of the 7 Up joke?

Anyways, I'm at this point in my life where I'm 
finally free from debts, and I can basically do 
whatever the hell I wanna do.

That is - until I realized that doing whatever I 
wanna do isn't as easy as it may sound.

Freedom of choice is supposed to excite you.

...I think.

But for some reason, all I ever feel is this weight.
This burden of responsibility for pretty much 
everything.

Any choice I make, there's a cost to it.

And I guess you could say that the only reason
why I can feel the weight so well is because 
the costs are just so painfully obvious to me.

When I know I cannot justify the dilemma that
will come when I do it, I know it's a bad decision.

I know.

And that's the hard part. Knowing how bad I
want something but I have to keep holding myself
back from pursuing it.

It could be as simple as buying an FZ150-i, plans
on renting a room, whether I should get a car and
whether I should go after that someone who makes
my heart ache for the dumbest reasons.

And I've made my own share of bad decisions.
Following your instincts isn't always a free ride
after all.

Actually, it's never been a free ride.

I'm not even certain if I'm actually getting wiser
or more scatterbrained by the by. Because it
always seems like I'm trying to be "mature."

But if in the end of the day, nothing gets done,
and I'm still stuck in the same spot, then it
probably isn't "mature" don'tcha think?

What's worse anyways?

Making more bad choices that could be good
choices, or staying in the exact same spot embraced
in the comforts of my own bubble waiting for death
to take me?

Maybe it's just a matter of time when the answer
becomes obvious to me - that I should just run
down that fucking hill and do it anyways. That
it's tons better than being stuck in the same
damned spot.

But.

What if it isn't?

Until then, well, at least these thoughts are out there.

Some part of me yearns to go back to those days
where I actually posted more, if not once every...
I donno. 6 months?

Fuck, it's really already been 6 months since my last post.

Maybe I can and I know how. It's just that time
is such a fickle commodity now. I spend my time
with this and that, and the next thing I know, I'll
need to get some sleep - and then it's tomorrow.

I have to balance my time between doing things
that keep me positive, and actually like working
to figure out finances and how I'm actually
getting out of the rat race along with all other
things life will throw in my face against what I 
really want to do.

And the cycle repeats over and over to the point
where I know 365 days a year is a pretty short
span of time.

It's not like I have infinite brainpower and
inexhaustible body energy. Few people can 
operate like Eddie Morra.

After he's found the drug by the way.

How much time do I have left I wonder?
How much more opportunities will I miss?

I wouldn't know that of course, since I'm no
psychic, and I haven't tried enough.

But I do know this one thing though;
I'm sick of having nothing to post about.

I can't post about work because it's... work.

I can't post about other ordinary people because
it's... invasive.

I can't post about my most honest thoughts
because my thoughts can sometimes piss the
living shit out of people (and myself).

I can however, post about ambiguous
things that will always just remain ambiguous.
And that's that.

Misteri Nusantara. Boo-hoo.

Really though. What's the point anyways?

*shrugs*

Maybe there's fun in that which I fail to see.

I guess I'll just have to make do with being 
ambiguous until I earn my right to be open.
Whenever that may be.