seasons

seasons change, the earth spins on its axis, and i'm here in my bedroom. I wonder when things will change, when the mundainity of my life will someday become anew, fresh, and full of color. when it will start to have some sort of deeper meaning. Scared of change, scared of the present moment. i torture myself of where i'm supposed to go in this world. It all seems so incredibly big from where i sit, which in turn makes me feel small, like i have no control over my own destiny, like i was doomed the moment i came into existence. How could something so big live inside of me? What do i do with it? How do I sit comfortbly with it? The anxiety sits atop my shoudlers and pushes me down.

I can't move. The pressures of the unknown haunt me. I must know everything, but that's impossible. What could've been had i done that one thing differently? Who could i be? Is it all my fault? I wish i could meet each version of myself in all of the infinite universes, and figure out which one i should be right now, to know exactly what to do. Would she be sitting in the spot i'm in right now, banging away at her keyboard?

I won't pretend that i know the answer, instead I will question every thought that flows through my head, take in all the small moments that make up each passing day, and dream of a world where i know exactly where i belong, of a world where I did everything right, where i have no regrets or sorrow or guilt. A world in which each season passes and i am happy, even during winter.