Thursday, October 23, 2008

不知不觉的心碎了

My life lately:






It always feels like there are two sides warring inside of me. There is the part of me that knows life is a gift, and that I am lucky to be alive, even if I did not choose it. Because life is beautiful, and because we only get to live it once, I want to make every day the very best it can be. I always try. The other part of me is more bleak. Why bother? Why try? What if nothing will ever satisfy me? (I am saying this according to my personal beliefs.) One of the greatest existentialist crises is that is that we did not choose to be born, and the necessity and process of defining our own meanings in life leaves us lost. I am lost.

That we can choose our own meaning of life is both liberating and debilitating. Life is what I shape it to be, but how do I know what I choose as my meaning will make me happy? How can I tell that it is the right, the best decision to make? My friend said to me: "It's called picking something, and not looking back."

True. But that doesn't make it any easier or make me any happier. It does nothing to quell the conflict of my insides, and each day is a battle.

As I wrote in my last post: everything I have achieved, I worked for it. Literally, my blood, sweat, and tears have gone into everything that I have done. And it makes it bigger, better, brighter, more real, that much sweeter - not easier.

But how could I ever forgive myself, if I did not try?

To borrow a line from the song the inimitable j. just posted:
Oh it's not fun to be so blind
To be so blind

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