For the most part in life, I don't really think I know what I'm doing. I often feel as though I'm walking across a vast continent, looking to the stars for guidance and mostly not being able to make sense of what I see.
They say life is a journey, not a destination, but sometimes that idea scares me more than a little. After all...there are some days when the journey sucks so hard I want to throw a vase against the wall, and on those days, I have to somehow believe that I'm heading in this particular direction for a reason, or else why bother? I have to believe that I'm walking across this continent because I will eventually end up somewhere, rather than walking in circles. There has to be something. I have no idea how some people can have a five-year plan when I barely know what I'm doing from one day to the next and in some ways, I feel like even at 30 years old, I'm still searching for identidy, a definition of self that I can somehow use as a qualifier for who I am. Who am I? What am I? In my experience, randomness is not usually rewarded, but that's the truth behind me. I have yet to find a way to define myself with a hook, and believe me, I've searched long and hard. The only unifying factor I find when I look inside myself is my own contradictory nature and the randomness that comes with. Me, my life...neither is lateral, even when I wish otherwise. I'm constantly seeking to improve myself and about 99% of the time, I feel scattered - my life is scattered. I am scattered. I am random.