"...uncertainty..."
Do you ever wonder if all the choices we make really matter? We spend so much time agonizing over the smallest decisions, thinking they'll change the course of our lives. But in the end, does it really make a difference? Or are we just kidding ourselves, trying to control something that was never ours to begin with?
We like to believe we have control, that every step is part of some grand plan. We chase after certainty, thinking if we just plan enough, think enough, we can avoid the chaos, the darkness, the mess. But life doesn't work that way. No matter how much we try to map out our futures, life has a way of laughing at those plans more often than not, turning everything upside down when we least expect it.
And yet, we're constantly searching for meaning. We want the decisions to matter because if they don't, then what's the fucking point right? We cling to our choices like they're lifeliness, hoping they'll lead us to something better. But sometimes, the more we hold on, the more lost we become. We get so wrapped up in trying to find the right path that we forget to just live.
Then there's the pressure to be someone. To stand out, to make a mark on the world, and I've always found it so fucking exhausting, this need to be more than we are. Society tells us that we should always be striving, always reaching for something bigger. But what if just being is enough? What if all the striving is what's keeping us from finding peace? We're so busy running after something better than we don't even realize what we already have.
We all fear failure. But the truth is, the fear of failure is often worse than the failure itself. We avoid taking risks, avoid stepping out of line, because we're terrified of what might happen if we fall. But what's worse? Falling or standing still, never even trying? Maybe the real failure is in never taking any kind of leap.
Love, too, gets wrapped up in this. We're told it should be perfect, that it should complete us. But love is messy. It's not a fairy tale or a solution to all our problems. It's hard work, it's compromise, it's learning how to be with someone while still figuring out who you are. Maybe we've been sold the wrong story all along. Maybe love isn't the answer. Maybe it's just another piece of the puzzle.
And at the end of it all, when you strip away the expectations, the pressure, the fear-what are we left with? Ourselves. That's it. And maybe that's the one thing that really matters. Because no matter what choices we make, no matter how much we try to control the outcome, the only thing we can truly hold onto is who we are when all the noise fades away, how kind, how sympathethic, how empathetic, how humble we can be. In the end, we're not defined by the choices we made, but by how we carried ourselves through it all.