I’m indecisive and easily excited. Throw choices at me until they keep piling on, I’ll dally. I know I’m awfully lucky to have all these choices. And yet. Even if I’m happy where I am, it only seems to be for just a moment. Because somehow, somewhere, something will come along, more exciting, more dazzling, more ideal. My attentions are here one day, gone the next, frenzied in my own self-centeredness. Impatient for “better.” Ego.
So I make the choices wait, place the decisions I’ve already made on tentative, tread water to only quickly step back. And while I’m stuck in the same pattern, I lose choices, gain more– but venture nothing. All to chase “ideal.”
But if my ideals are constantly changing, if I’m constantly wavering, if I’m stagnant,
then it’s only obvious that it’s not that I’m waiting for better– this is only an excuse, really– but
I’m too scared to make the wrong decision.
Kick the air in bitterness, curse daylight for leaving, stare into the nights. But do nothing.
So there I go again, treading water, not noticing that the water around me has started to
Grounded in the least grounded way.
Just some contemplation really, not feeling particularly down, just reflective (for the sake of properly analyzing faults for myself to correct, you see).