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: A Season of Mists

Questions

I just finished watching Choke, a weird indie movie starring Sam Rockwell. It's one of those movies that asks more questions than it answers, but at least this one has a nice bow on it. It's intriguing and bizarre in so many ways that I was enthralled, gripped by its insanity and the calm, cool way the outlandish was accepted as is, as normal.

I ask myself many questions all the time. What am I doing here? Where do I belong? Why do I do these things to myself? When will I break free from this cycle? Maybe I'm asking the wrong questions. As yet, it's pretty clear I have no answers for these questions. No shining light or discovery or epiphany has managed to rock me from this state, move me. In many ways I feel trapped, whether it be by my modest success or my many inabilities to find escape velocity.

But maybe I've been approaching this all wrong. That's not to say I know the right way or have any single notion of what a right way might be, but I know that my current "way" isn't it.

Sometimes I wonder - is this it? Is this what life is like for everyone? You find some niche, carve it out for yourself and settle in? Get married, have some kids, work to put food on the table and provide for your family and, in the meantime, that's life? Has everyone around me bought into this? (And secretly I ask myself: Why can't I? Why can't I be settled and follow this path? What's wrong with me?)

And there it is. The questions I can never answer and the one I always ask. I stay up until late hours of the night. I am frozen in inaction when I should not. I am lost, at sea as it were, even when surrounded by things that entertained me not hours earlier. And I combat these feelings by inaction, by waiting for them to pass and Monday to come and work to resume and the boredom to take hold again when I am otherwise not paying attention.

I think a part of me rejects the underpinnings. I don't know why or how to battle it or whether to fully give in - I just know what it feels like and that I feel helpless when I know I am not.

Perhaps this is too much truth, too much honesty in a place where I strive to be as guarded as ever, but I'll let it stay, to be reread and rehashed and rethought. Maybe the question isn't how to break out of my current cycle, but how to start a new one. How do I start a new life?

Full post as published by A Season of Mists on January 26, 2010 (boomark / email).