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of having, or not having choices

Choices. When I studied Robert Frost at university, I was really into the whole existential ideas he proposed. I read Sartre who said: Man is doomed to be free. And let me say, I was kind of brushing the whole thing as bullcrap at the time. And yet, I remembered that quote, and I kept reminding myself of it for some reason.

Choices.

There comes a point in your life where you realize that everything you’ve dismissed proves to be factual. These could be fears, feelings for someone you never realized you really loved, or a simple quote you read in your university book.

Choices.

As I toss and turn in my bed trying to figure out some escape from the dilemma I’m living in, I keep pondering over these different tracks I have ahead of me, which to choose? Do I take the Road Not Taken like Frost did? Or do I go with my gut? But what is my gut saying?

Choices.

There was a time in our lives where choosing chocolate over biscuit was the toughest decision we ever had to make. We grow up to fall into the dilemma about what to wear, or how to cut our hair. We grow a bit more and bigger questions face us. Questions that would affect our whole lives. And at the slightest hints of hesitation, we turn our heads to the sky and curse our doomed freedom.

Choices.

I look back in forth, weighing all the possibilities, pros and cons. And hate this position I feel I am stuck in.  I curse my luck over my inability to make a decision, and wish for a way out of this. But then it hits me. We spend our adult lives fumbling and stumbling, just like the little kids we once were, trying to make the “right” choice. We hate ourselves, and some of us curse the skies for signs about what to decide. We ask our friends for advice, or whatever God we worship, to help us and guide us to the right path, forgetting the bigger issue, and the bigger problems of others, who by fate or circumstance, do not happen to have a choice. The athlete who does not have a choice to run because he lost his leg. The teenager who cannot choose to study because he has to feed his family after his father’s death. The children who cannot choose to eat because they were born in a starving village… And yet, we go on with our lives, cursing the drama of being unable to choose our major at university, or what job offer to take even though both present themselves as equally beneficial and both would lead us to a path we’ve always longed for.

I shut my eyes, thankful to have the privilege of being confused about making a choice, and I sleep.

 
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Posted by on March 2, 2012 in Uncategorized

 

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