the million-dollar question. written: 4:45 p.m. on Sunday, Dec. 10, 2006
Life can be scary if you don't know what lies ahead, if all you have as guidance is the mistakes you committed and the mistakes others committed against you in the past. The past takes on the burden of that subtle, reflexive feeling of repulse of a bad memory because nothing went right, and you're here now because you made all the wrong choices. Somehow, despite everything, I'm still convinced that I'm that same girl from years ago who can't stay in one place, standing still while time goes by and leaves her behind. Amidst the dazed incomprehension and cautious acceptance, in the absence of any of my old familiar second thoughts and second-guessing, I was wondering when Uncertainty would creep up on me and slip its clammy hand into mine once more. I shouldn't have doubted myself; haven't I said before that I trust in nothing much but my own dysfunctionality?
Well, insecurities are exactly that, and paranoia is retarded. I'm trying to be a better person this time round. All things considered, I think I owe myself that much. I deserve to be happy, don't I?
