mahiwaga

The problem with me is that I always try to find something wrong.

It's been a long time since I've just been content. Happy with the way things are going, and not worrying about how things are going to turn out.

I've realized that I've adopted a very Kantian attitude to life—I believe that I should do things for the sake of doing them, and not as means to an end.

I try not to let the future freak me out. But it's either one thing or another.

Either the terrible unknown lies in wait underneath my bed, in anticipation of waylaying me with unforeseen tragedy and adversity, or I can only extrapolate a featureless, meaningless, gray timeline, where everything is the same day after day, and life cease to have purpose, a pointless exercise of going through the motions of daily living.

Either way, it makes me want to stay in bed and never get up.

In an abstract, intellectual sense, I know that I'm wrong. No one really knows what the future holds—as Ren Hoëk once said, "Maybe something good, maybe something bad." I wish I were wise enough to believe it, though. I wish I could believe that life will neither be utterly terrifying and dizzingly out-of-control, nor completely homogenized, predictable, boring, and pointless. That somewhere in between, there's something that, while filled with some surprising potholes and bumps now and again, won't lead me off into a yawning chasm or straight off a cliff into the sea.

I know that there's no happily ever after, but I wish I could at least believe that the universe is unfolding the way it was meant to unfold.

Which reminds of this, which, for some reason, despite a couple of years of trying, I still can't internalize it.

If someone could just tell me that everything is going to be OK, and actually make me believe it.