I
don't know what I am, who I am, what I want, what I'm supposed to do anymore.
I'm lost. And it's not all that bad. And that my friends is what Barney Stinsons would call a true story.
There's a sort of
liberty that comes with the unknown. There's no plan to follow, no path to walk
in, just a wide opening in front of you and you can do whatever the fuck you
want. I used to be scared of such a thing. I thought getting lost was the worst
thing that could happen to me. I thought that having a totally planned out
future was the thing to do, staying focused was necessary not to go mad. But
I've come to realize that there are different types of madness. The one I was most scared of is actually the one that came with all those plans. It's the one that
makes you panic and hyperventilate because you're not where you had planned to
be. It's the one that makes you feel like a loser, like you're unworthy, a nothing.
The other madness,
the one that comes with being lost, is a different type of madness. It's the
type of madness that gives way to creativity, it's the type of madness that
allows you to let down your hair and twirl around in the fields. It's the type of madness that allows you to accept yourself as you are, good and bad. It's the type
of madness that keeps your mind healthy, however contradictory that sounds.
How can you feel so at
home when you're lost? Maybe it's because you never had a home in the first
place. Or maybe it's because belonging to one place, one thing, one person, is
not your cup of tea. Or really it's just the fact that being lost means you don't
have responsibilities, not really, because you don't really know do you?
And after all why do
you need to know who you are when everyone's more than ready to tell you who
you should be?
Why not just fuck it
and let it be?
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