Monday, March 19, 2012

it gives me knots in my knuckles

oh, the taste of doubt.
how does one even write about doubt with confidence? doubting others; i mean, that in itself is the epitome of most fictional novel's plots. but self-doubt is an entirely different metaphorical fish to fry. self-doubt is that senseless topic that you feel like you aren't supposed to write about past the age of 20. it's a thing of the past: a thing of amateurity. self-doubt is left for the pubescent teens who are unsure of their career paths and their university choices and their sexuality. self-doubt isn't left for adulthood. the thousands of dollars for education and the stark individualism of the West was supposed to do its job and erase any questions left of the future. of the self. of the faith. why hasn't it happened? oh i'm sorry, did that sound too question-without-an-answer for your liking?
all in all, i'm unsure if the words will be enough. unassertiveness and a heart-attack of conflict won't get me very far in the journalism world. but the same could be said for the psychology world.

oh lord, i should've been a juvenile delinquent while i still could.

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