As the title of this post suggests, I'm having a crisis. I mean, it's a pretty common thing for human beings to have these existential crises right? Like "what is the meaning of life" "are we a part of reality or simply a figment of Leonardo DiCaprio's imaginations"? Pretty common.
And what does one do when they have said crisis? Do they seek out for meaning or stand in a public space throwing copies "Inception" DVDs on random passerbys? No, they write about it in their blog.
While I continue to feel uncomfortable to write or speak about anything genuine or sincere because feelings are just inherently disgusting and painful and gross, I can't help but want to be sincere and honest about this crisis. I'm often jealous of people who seem that have things together, walking around like the world isn't a vast part of an ever extending galaxy, which in itself is just one of the infinite amount of possible galaxies in the universe. How do people not just think about this all the time? Sometimes I get the urge to grab random people on the shoulders and ask "HOW ARE YOU OK WITH THIS?"
Though I know the answer. Or the maybe possible answer on why people don't just have such crises at any given moment or time. It's because there's other things to worry about. They have actual things to do that occupies their minds.
So instead of having an existential crisis, I decided to think about other things. Like the future and the rest of my life. This terrified me further and lead to a different type of crisis. What am I going to do? I don't have it together. Does everyone else know what they want to do for the rest of their lives? How do you find out? Did everyone secretly get instructions through a colourful leaflet that tells them what their goal is? At least I'm not thinking about the universe anymore. But this still sucks.
