I don't know anything
desperately looking for answers in wrong places
I don't know how to explain to my younger self that adulthood isn't the freedom-filled adventure that was advertised on The Sims, but rather a complex juggling act of responsibilities, relationships, and the persistent question of whether I remembered to defrost something for dinner.
I don’t know how to respond when people ask me, “what do you do?” because I can barely explain to my parents that my unconventional career path is not a phase or a failure, but a reflection of a rapidly changing world they (and I) might not fully understand.
I don't know if I'm an extrovert anymore because, on some days, it feels as though years of pandemic isolation and some form of long-Covid have rewired my social circuits into preferring an evening of screen time over nightclubs.
I don’t know what to write about sometimes, or even how to write, because the little sticky notes in my head float around like butterflies in a game of Elefun where my net is just too small and the butterflies are elusive as fuck.
I don’t know if I want kids, although I like the idea of passing down jeans and genes, I’m petrified of the pressure, guilt, and struggle that comes with nurturing a human for decades, only to settle for one that doesn’t respect me.
I don’t know how to maintain certain friendships in a world where “let’s catch up soon” becomes a hollow promise repeated ad infinitum, which makes me think accountability should’ve been taught in grade school, much like the other important school subjects we use daily, like trigonometric proofs and acid base titrations.
I don’t know why I feel the need to have an opinion on everything, as if admitting ignorance is somehow worse than spouting half-baked ideas that I saw in a reel with three podcast bros read in a Substack article.
I don’t know why people are so enamored with Prime Day deals when the Nostalgia Taco Tuesday Heated Lazy Susan Taco Bar Serving Set for a Party with 4 Tortilla Holders, Fondue Pot for Burritos, Nachos, and Fajitas - 20 Oz. - Red was probably cheaper last week.
I don’t know how to deal with the pain that comes from saying things too quickly and watching my words draw resentful bruises on the ears of the people I love so much; those words eat me alive at night and I wish I could eat them back.
I don’t know why we make decisions when we’re hungry, angry, tired, or lonely, other than to keep life interesting and therapists employed.
I don’t know why everyone is so obsessed with a photo of an old white man and his bloody ear when thoussands of people in Gaza crawl across screets of rubble, bones, and flesh just to play I Spy with parachuting boxes of humanitarian aid.
I don't know if god exists or if I even believe in such a concept, but I find myself hedging my bets with ‘love u’ texts before turbulent flights and half-assed gratitude for pretty sunsets, as if faith were a lottery ticket I'm too superstitious to throw away.
I don't know if anyone has anything figured out because it seems as if the illusion of certainty is humanity’s greatest collective achievement, some sort of shared delusion that makes more sense than the ending of Interstellar.
quote unquote
"I don't know what I think until I write it down." - Joan Didion
"I don't know what else to do but keep going." - Julianna Margulies
"I don't know where I'm going from here, but I promise it won't be boring." - David Bowie
"I don't know if we each have a destiny, or if we're all just floating around accidental-like on a breeze, but I, I think maybe it's both." - Forrest Gump
If I could give you some burst of clarity or a magic compass, I totally would. These questions are my way of being real - with you and with myself. The past few weeks have felt like an impossible puzzle where all the pieces are blue and the final image is a clear sky with no clouds. Perhaps you've got the missing corner piece? I’d love to hear what answers/questions you offer, for our shared piece of mind.
I don’t know if you missed my last post, but here it is:
I don't know where I am heading. But I do know your words will be there with me.
I really feel the "I don't know if I'm an extrovert anymore" and the rewiring of the social brain post-pandemic. I found out that I'm autistic during the pandemic, so I probably was never as, let's say traditionally, social as I pretended to be. But I did feel a really big change during and after the pandemic. Sometimes I feel like no one is really talking about how much that period of time affected us all anymore. I know there's a million more horrible things that have happened sense then, but it's nice to hear someone reflected a bit on that period in time again- so thank you!