Oceans or Lakes?

I don’t want to start anything that I know I don’t want to finish. But people always say, “Well, you never know what life can offer you later. Take that opportunity! It might take you places you’d love.”

I tried. Several times. Sometimes, it worked. Other times—many times more—it didn’t.

In the grand scheme of life, I personally think it is beneficial for self-exploration, yes. It is very much useful to make us realize that what we’ve always wanted was still tediously that very first thing in mind we had in that random night we suddenly had epiphanies of what we wanted to do or have in life. But as self-doubts were always lurking underneath or surrounding us, we needed to take a silly peek on other things or other paths or perhaps other ‘someone’ as well, to truly realize that these weren’t for us. I’ve always known, but silly me, I listened to other people so annoyingly much that I halted myself completely from devouring it deliciously. I wandered too much, too long, that now I feel like I am wasting so much precious time—is it already too late to go back?

What is it, really, that makes me not believe in my own truths and desires?

Well, I think I know. Sometimes, it feels like half-truths or a quarter-truth though there is an innate desire within it. So, I wouldn’t dare take it, or do it. It feels unnervingly fleeting, like big waves in the middle of the ocean. I couldn’t possibly choose that. Hence, I chose the calm lake with swans instead, although I’ve always known there was nothing I liked about little swans swimming in the lake. If hoping were a sin, then I’d have been in hell right at this second, because I’ve always hoped that I would eventually fancy the swans. We all know I don’t and will never do. And by ‘we’, I meant every single atom in my body, every single inch of my inside organs, and every single breath I take. For that, I am standing in front of the demon’s reception desk, residing in my own hell.