restless

I’m feeling restless. I enter my bedroom, getting ready to go out, but I’m immobilized. I want to figure something out and I feel like I’m searching for answers in places in which I know they won’t be found, nudged by the creeping knowledge that I've already looked there; and even if I were to find them, I know I won’t listen.

Sometimes, I already think I know the answers. And then I think, “Who am I kidding? That’s the wrong answer.” It’s circular---a short track in my head. And it’s not even a nice track with a rich redness. It’s just gray and soggy like today. I trudge along, my feet sink and it’s an exhausting feat of will getting one foot up.

There’s a constant conflict between my nature, the way I know I work, and the nagging voice that wants to push its evolution, perhaps before it’s time.

I just get so tired of convincing and validating and accepting. I just want to throw it all up in the air and laugh at it all as it falls down where it might. But then I’ll just be accepting random outcomes, not owning anything but my ability to give everything important to me up to other forces. But how do you even know when that’s precisely what you should be doing? When doing that is an act of courage and not weakness?