“You keep asking me the same questions, don’t you?” you said. I was startled, I really didn’t know what to do, so I guess, you didn’t mind?
“Sorry, I need to shut up.”
These days, I keep bothering my friends with lots of open questions, some hard-to-tangle ropes, puzzles that might never be resolved. It must be so tiring for them to deal with my indecisiveness.
It’s an hour before I check-in for work, curling up with words, ten to four. I know I should take it easy, one by one, but I can’t. I keep asking myself whether it gives me any good to focus on SEO — or should I learn another thing instead. I keep wondering if writing is truly my path. If I am into this work, if I really enjoy what I am doing.
I am so tired of the way recruiters make sure if I am capable to think creatively — because I am a STEM student. Or the way some of them said, “this is interesting for chemistry students like you to have an interest in this field” just so I go on explaining things.
With the pile-up amount of revision, and script, and editorial plan, while knowing I am a STEM student. Is it okay?
I want to do many things. It’s hard for me to be okay with not knowing everything. It’s hard because no one answered my calls. It’s hard because I need to be the one who answers my own questions.
And I am not only stupid but also naive. Imagine how wrong I have been all along, how much bullshit I gave to myself in an endeavor of answering my own questions. Yet, people still see me as getting all these shits together — I am not!
I get mad when people think I know everything, or when they think I can do all the writings — all the process of choosing words and entangle them. It’s weird how they praise me for things I don’t understand while I only want to be seen as a decent human being.
I, like you, am confused like hell, too.
I often regret my decisions, like this one. I know I shouldn’t be too hard on myself, the way I try to handle too many things at once, crying myself to sleep by the pressure of it.
I shouldn’t have to be this way. I know. There are many ways to be, to exist, and not to suffer this much.
But this is the path I am in. This is the domino effect of impulsive things I did in the past. This is the product made by my past self.
Here it is. I am young. I am confused. Maybe those two words are mutually exclusive: young and confused.