Swirl of Emotions


Hurtling through the cosmos on a bottle rocket of emotions probably doesn't sound appealing, and indeed it isn't. I hover daily between despair and jubilation. Looking at the entire landscape of my future is just about enough to bring me to my knees. I have never been able to handle the uncertainty. I love to have at least the illusion of being in control of my destiny, but in a sense, I have never had that. Life is difficult enough on its own, but I am consumed with the idea of purpose and destiny. Is one destined to complete a task? Can one be driven to a goal not of their making and engrossed with the idea? To an extent, these and other difficult questions, unanswered, have formed a pillar of my life. The ponderance of these questions occurs at all times, breaking of the dawn, setting of the sun. Even my very competency for life itself I question at times. To say that the University of Alberta lowered my self esteem would be hyperbole in its essence. I believe in a very real sense that in some ways, the U of A managed to do what other failures could not -- namely shatter my confidence in my abilities. Sure, I, as well as the rest of the world, control their destiny, but to what extent? I believe that whatever happens, happens for a reason, and thus I can't help but think that my demoralization serves a purpose somehow, I just don't understand it. I feel exhausted sometimes, not only in a physical sense, but in my entire being. And inevitably, in all of this, there is a deep sense of shame at what I have allowed to happen to myself. I am unable to control certain aspects of myself that horrify me. Lack of self discipline has always been my greatest struggle. In all of this, I cannot help but wonder where I fall on the magic line of sanity. The definition of life for me has been my struggle against God, my folks, my world. The rage against an unequal and unjust world. The fight to make a difference in whatever way I can. The drive to better myself at any cost. The will to not become what I despise. The contant run towards a moving target I have set for myself and which I do not understand. I am the berserk fox.