I often sit and wonder—
Who would I be right now
if I'd said no
to certain situations
when I was younger?
Where would I be
if things had been different?
Would I have met different people?
Would my life have been better?
Would I have succeeded
with one of those childhood dreams
I once held so tightly?
Would I be more confident?
Would I have more self-esteem?
Would I be financially secure,
standing somewhere different
from where I stand today?
The questions come endlessly.
The old
who, what, how, why, when's
rumbling and tumbling,
bouncing around endlessly
inside this skull of mine.
Round and round they go,
colliding with one another,
never settling,
never quite allowing me
to reach an answer.
Honestly,
I'm surprised I've got
any brain cells left.
And when I think back—
or perhaps,
when I try to think back—
I'm consciously aware
of just how many times
I've had to adapt.
Adapt to people.
Adapt to places.
Adapt to circumstances.
Adapt to situations
I never expected to find myself in.
Adapt.
Adapt.
And adapt again.
Sometimes I wonder
if that is what I've become—
someone endlessly reshaping himself
to fit whatever world
happens to surround him.
And then another question comes:
If I'd made a different decision
way back when,
would I have needed to adapt
so many times?
Would I have become
someone different?
Would I recognise that person
if I met him?
People talk about fate
and destiny
as though they're lifelines—
something written long before
we ever take our first breath.
They believe in them reverently,
as though every step
has already been decided.
But how can they?
There are too many variables.
One choice.
One word.
One yes.
One no.
One moment
can change the direction
of everything that follows.
So what is my fate
supposed to be?
Is it simply this—
One struggle
followed by another,
one step after the next,
always moving forward
because we're told
never to walk backwards?
But what happens
when walking forward
doesn't mean you're progressing?
What happens
when you walk far enough
only to realise
you've returned
to the same place?
What happens
when the path bends,
twists,
turns—
and suddenly
you're walking in a circle?
A never-ending loop.
Round and round.
Forward,
but never really moving.
And perhaps that's what frightens me most:
Not knowing whether I'm still
walking towards somewhere...
or simply
walking in circles,
wondering what might have been
with every step.
Who would I be right now
if I'd said no
to certain situations
when I was younger?
Where would I be
if things had been different?
Would I have met different people?
Would my life have been better?
Would I have succeeded
with one of those childhood dreams
I once held so tightly?
Would I be more confident?
Would I have more self-esteem?
Would I be financially secure,
standing somewhere different
from where I stand today?
The questions come endlessly.
The old
who, what, how, why, when's
rumbling and tumbling,
bouncing around endlessly
inside this skull of mine.
Round and round they go,
colliding with one another,
never settling,
never quite allowing me
to reach an answer.
Honestly,
I'm surprised I've got
any brain cells left.
And when I think back—
or perhaps,
when I try to think back—
I'm consciously aware
of just how many times
I've had to adapt.
Adapt to people.
Adapt to places.
Adapt to circumstances.
Adapt to situations
I never expected to find myself in.
Adapt.
Adapt.
And adapt again.
Sometimes I wonder
if that is what I've become—
someone endlessly reshaping himself
to fit whatever world
happens to surround him.
And then another question comes:
If I'd made a different decision
way back when,
would I have needed to adapt
so many times?
Would I have become
someone different?
Would I recognise that person
if I met him?
People talk about fate
and destiny
as though they're lifelines—
something written long before
we ever take our first breath.
They believe in them reverently,
as though every step
has already been decided.
But how can they?
There are too many variables.
One choice.
One word.
One yes.
One no.
One moment
can change the direction
of everything that follows.
So what is my fate
supposed to be?
Is it simply this—
One struggle
followed by another,
one step after the next,
always moving forward
because we're told
never to walk backwards?
But what happens
when walking forward
doesn't mean you're progressing?
What happens
when you walk far enough
only to realise
you've returned
to the same place?
What happens
when the path bends,
twists,
turns—
and suddenly
you're walking in a circle?
A never-ending loop.
Round and round.
Forward,
but never really moving.
And perhaps that's what frightens me most:
Not knowing whether I'm still
walking towards somewhere...
or simply
walking in circles,
wondering what might have been
with every step.
