This is me.

Nescio quid.

I don’t know what that means.

I don’t know what I’m doing, and I don’t know why I’m doing whatever it is I don’t know I’m doing.

I definitely don’t know what I should be doing, and I don’t know how to find out, so I don’t know for certain that I’m not doing it, but I’m pretty sure I’m probably not doing it.

I don’t know who to ask to find out. I don’t know whether that might actually be okay, because I don’t know what I’d ask them if I did know who to ask.

I don’t know what I did to get myself into this mess. I don’t even know what this mess is. I don’t know with absolute certainty that it is a mess and not a catastrophe, digestive aid, or clusterfuck.

I don’t know what to do next. If I did know what to do, I don’t know if I’d know how to do it. I don’t know what’s going to happen as a result of not knowing how to do the stuff I don’t know to do.

Lucky for me, lots of people do know exactly what I should do and why I should do it and how I should do it, but none of them say the same thing and I don’t know how to tell who really knows what I need to know.

Maybe no one knows. Who knows? I don’t know.

I don’t know what song she’s playing, but I hope it’s Cielito Lindo.

 

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People say to listen to your gut, but sometimes your gut stays out of it. In those cases, you just close your eyes and point. But I really do think you need psychological attention, so I’m not sure anyone, including me, has any business giving you advice. Hope you have been looking into state care.

No one should really know what to do for you except you. Everyone will always have an opinion, but in the end, it comes down to you.

September 19, 2013