I am unbelievably flustered, irritated almost. And as all such emotions heighten within me, questions erupt. Blasted into the dormancy of my brain, they rattle me. I find myself lurking within the nooks and crannies of the finite amount of gray matter I posses. Trying to find answers to perhaps the most complex questions to have ever been put to man.

Q1)  What am I doing with my life?

Hey, that one's easy! I'm studying engineering. 

Q2) Why?

Because I'll have to work when I'm older right. I'll have to earn, support my family. Duh.

Q3) And then?

I'll earn and live happily ever after!

Q4) So, what's the point of it all?

What does that even mean? 

I feel troubled once my answers transform to counter-questions. I feel stranded, unfamiliar. Lost, almost. Seriously, what does that even mean? What does it all mean? This incessant noise about achievement, about success, about being great, being happy, being this, being that. I find refuge in a poem I came across a few years ago.

Now we will count till twelve,
and we will all keep still,
For once on the face of this earth,
let's not speak in any language;
let's stop for one second,
and not move our arms so much.

I wonder if it is sane to find yourself consumed so wholly in conflict, as myself. To be constantly nagged by uncertainty. As I turn twenty, a crisis gestates, fuelled by the dormancy of my life. I find myself often questioning the principles that make this world go around. 

This incessant exchange of money angers me. Why am I putting myself through 4 years of college, far from the people I love the most? Sure, to win some you have to lose some. What will I win though? Ultimately what's it all going to lead to?

Nostrils flare, eyes water. I am furious. I want to live in the wild. Now we will count till twelve, and we will all keep still. For fuck's sake, shut up and keep still.