Not even the lake

I have never been this confused in the entire span of my life – there has never been a time where so much of my day is devoted to trying to figure out what to do, what to think, who to be with, who to be.

But is that not just status quo for a college-attending, suburban, middle class, quasi-intelligent nineteen year old girl? Am I not supposed to be “questioning life” and “exploring my options”?

I suppose it is.

I suppose that I don’t have much of a choice, short of, of course, figuring out my entire life in a matter of seconds.

But there ARE things I want that I can’t have – situations that cannot come to light right now and positions I cannot be in…until perhaps later.

So I am simply left in this dismal chasm, pondering whether to mutilate my fingers as I scrabble my way up the unforgiving limestone walls or to hold my own and meditate in silence until I can look up and watch as that saving grace, that rope, is lowered into my hell hole.

I do not feel much of a reason to live these days, but it is not the same way I felt during those dark months – this is not so much a feeling of being unloved and unwanted, but more of a feeling of being useless (to society, not to the people I love) and just another number.

But, of course, that is what I am. I am an excrutiatingly miniscule speck in this world and nothing will ever change that. Not even fame or fortune could change that.

I have lost (or perhaps merely misplaced) my ability to find joy in the simple things – I am so deadset on finding some true purpose, some deep meaning in everything.

And that is no way to live.

I need time to figure these things out. And I have all the time in the world and it does no good.

Perhaps my ultimate joy will come as some sort of unfathomable revelation, exploding into my mind without warning or logic.

But I cannot depend on something like that – I cannot live waiting for the day when my life will fall into place.

I am simply not sure of how to make it happen for myself.