to resist is to exist, another human experience:
Added 2025-05-26 14:00:11 +0000 UTCI think I am resisting again, the flow of my life by not knowing who I am. I don’t align with identity, but perhaps knowing more of the self allows more solidity than being a wisp on the wind, always being set a drift by curiosity, experience, all idly in the mind—and all quashed by harsh demanding choice in a limited expanse of existence. To have purpose is a factor in identity, and it’s not so much a lack of purpose as it is of knowing truth. What a vague world to never know what truth is in accordance to choice and the timelines that are swayed by them. To yearn for the knowledge of the right choice. To have chosen the path that felt most like me with assurity, when all paths have their lessons, consequences, challenges—all teachers and all I know for certain, is the gnawing appetite of curiosity. How do we know what paths to take without identity? Dear Fate, how I long for your comforting existence, to forfeit in belief that the choices were not mine to make—how irresponsible I wish I could become for the frivolity of predetermined fate. Never much of a believer, logic conquers whim and lays it at my feet in the form of endless critical thought and choice. But perhaps, I know my identity and fear its truth? And again, returned to the feigned resistance of pretense, for perhaps it is more likely awful fear tramping down identify. I wonder if the foolish choiced, self truth knowing, harm inducers regret their known identity and all the consequence that has come to be by their self indulgent knowing. I don’t wish to fear to be me, but what if experimentation leads to an identity of nothingness and lack? What should be forfeited for the sake of knowing one’s true self? Who should be forfeited?
(Perhaps I should allow myself my curiosity of all things internal and relational serve as my purpose, my identity. An ever staring question mark pointed with large inquisitive inside eyes, bulging, blinking, and wet for the truth.)
