Stalemate

I think there's a very distinct danger in not knowing exactly what you want. There's an even more serious danger in not knowing what you want but knowing what you definitely don't want and having infallible motivation but no direction. You're ready to jump off the ledge and never look back but you don't know what you're jumping in to. What's going to catch you at the bottom of the fall: water? which will cradle the impact but could eventually drown you; rocks? which will just straight up kill you; or the longest fall of your life which takes your breath and evenutally your consciousness away from you, leaving you with nothing but the serenity of nothingness, no definite here or there, no permanent yes or no. You just float. Each option has a downside, yet each prospect of not knowing has its appeal. What do you do when you're looking into the abyss and you have no idea of what you want to see below you? What do you do when you're ready to leave everything behind you and start all over, but you don't know where to start? How do you stand at the starting line without knowing what sort of race you've signed up for? And do you just jump at the gun and see where the race takes you, or do you resign and wait for the right sort of race to come along, no matter how long that takes? How do you figure it all out? And what if you think you know with some sort of certainty, and then one day you wake up and can't believe that's what you thought was right, and there's no way in the world that your current reality could be how you want to live your life? Wanting something and not knowing what that something is is absolutely terrifying. Being so absorbed in this cyclic repetition is exhausting. Living each day with no distinct purpose or definite direction is infuriating. Waking up not knowing is exciting though. But with the change of each day and the passing of each idea, I seem to grow less certain of the certainty I feel towards anything which inevitably changes my mind because why should I trust my instincts when they've lead me astray countless times before? Every time I've though "This is absolutely without any hint of a doubt exactly what I want to do and who I want to be" it's changed, within a day, a week, or a month. Nothing's lasted the test of time. So why should I act when acting could mean making a decision? Did I say decision? I meant mistake. Freudian slip? Or slip of the tongue towards what I really think, wish, or dream I could do, when what I really want to do is make a damn decision and stick to it. But what if it's the wrong dream? Possibly more terrifying than my current state is the possibility of my future state: getting somewhere and then figuring out that it's nowhere close to where I want or am meant to be. How do you make a commitment when you know that the most terrifying idea of all is commiting to something? In chess they call it a stalemate. You move your queen in any direction and you lose. You leave her where she is and the enemy eats you alive. Standing still is your only option, and the recipe for your demise. Game over. But you're 22. Wait, 23. Shit. Time keeps moving. And there you stand, frozen in the headlights, awake in the dream where you can't run a step but the enemy keeps advancing, the enemy being the future and each try for a step is in a different direction. You fall, you get up, you run, you fall. You don't wake up. There is no waking up. This is life, in all its dramatic flair, and the passing of days drones in your ears like a continuously sounding alarm clock begging you to get the hell out of bed already and start your day. Or your life. Forgive my dramatic nature but it is after all your life, dull and boring, inescapable and real. The decisions weigh too heavy to deal with today, I'll wake up early and do something productive tomorrow. No wait, tomorrow. No wait, shit, I woke up late again. And on it goes. There is no here or there, no yes or no.