My life feels like itapos;s falling apart.� Iapos;m not quite sure if itapos;s a good thing.� So many books preach about letting go, and releasing your burdens... But I feel a loss of purpose when I try to�do so deliberately.� My ambitions and goals tend to fall away with my burdens.�� My life seems to stagnate from that point on.�� Depressing just writing about it.�� I know the way I let go is wrong, or at least, not correct in the way I go about it.�� But Iapos;ve felt that absolute clarity and bright feeling of being alive that can come from letting go.��Itapos;s�just�getting to that point thatapos;s difficult.
Difficult?� Maybe terrifying is more accurate.� I feel like a newly hatched chick waiting at the edge of a cliff side.� If I jump will these flimsy appendages hold me up?� Will I drop like a stone?� What if I�soar higher than I should?� How high should I go?� What if I skim too close to the ground?� What If I fly?
Quantum physics has finally won me.� Questions are now more calming than answers.� Maybe because�Iapos;m�not stagnating further than I already have?� Or maybe because it distracts from the constant looming, pressuring opinions that I seem to collect.� What are you doing with your life?� Are you doing something worthwhile?� Are you going to college?� Are you happy?� Are you perfect?� Can you pat head and rub you belly while you say your abcapos;s?
The most idiotic thing about myself?� My need to please people, myself included.� Iapos;m a bit of a�perfectionist as well.� Thank god I was raised in an artsy, hippie town.� Iapos;m too laconic and cheerful to be a total idiot.�
The best thing about myself?� My ability to laugh at me-self and life in general.�
Maybe the road to happiness is lined with whoopee cushions?� Who knows?
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