Going in Circles
Sometimes I feel like I’m walking in a circular path, chasing something that leads to the same place where I started. A mix of impatience and disorientation overwhelms me. I wish to find the feeling of certainty, belief, and faith that some fortunate people possess. I envy them, so convinced of their desires; their confidence is precisely my weakness.
In my twenties, I did enjoy that privilege of such assurance, or I would rather say, now looking back, ignorance disguised as confidence, foolishness masked as bravery. I don’t know what I prefer: knowing what I know today but feeling unsure about everything or having remained in the ignorant twenties. I am in my thirties, which weigh on me today. More than the years, it’s my expectations that weigh on me — the expectations I built at some point and that I don’t fulfill today. The expectations that the teenager built and for which the twenty-year-old sacrificed and fought, but the thirty-year-old has deserted.
None of those efforts seem worth it today. So many hours, so many days went down the drain. Today, I am stepping on new grounds, feeling like a stranger, judged by the society in my mind. I feel lost, useless, and wasted.
How many ideas are in my head? How many goals did I construct at some point and never questioned? Today, I feel enslaved by them, by those finish lines I drew and didn’t know what they meant. I no longer know what to think of the word “goal.” I don’t know if that’s what I want. A goal is the end, the final point, and is that what I want? There are no endpoints as long as we are alive.
I start over, at another point, a different one, not from the twenties, almost not even from the thirties. I start again from another perspective, opening new paths that lead me to find my truth. Without expectations, without goals, without ties, without conditions, just opening paths, exploring options that allow me to live, to know, and more than that, that lead me to know myself.
