Conflicted.

I’m conflicted. In me presides a reservation of sorts regarding the future that is to come. I know not how to remove the self from me, but I do know that I know myself not. There is a battle for self-identification for I’m afraid to lose myself, but the question of “self” itself begs an answer. There is a fine, bleak line between selfishness and selflessness and I know not how to venture into the vast, unknown sea that lays ahead of me. I do know that one must realise the self so as to not assimilate in the other, and lose the self completely. But I do not know of anyone who is a living proof of such demarcation, or that how must one go about it, or that if it is just a delusion of the self, to pacify one’s worth of existence or that the question exists at all? Here, is me and I and I know not either. And here is me and you, and I know nor how to go about that either. Perhaps at this frail a time, my defence mechanism is kicking in, and as my subconscious seeks an answer to such absurd questions, I find respite in just asking the questions, in inquiring, in finding out even if the answer does not exist. But then there are the grander, greater, external events of the world that make my existence insignificant, that demand an attention so wholly devoid of the self that I again end up dazed & confused, unable to balance the world within against the world outside. Had I known the self, would I have then be able to land a greater resolve for the explicit conflict that lays beyond me? Again, I know not if “know thyself” would have have lend me a retrospection, a unique insight into how to go about the myriad of coercions that lay outside of me, that are part of a grander mystery, a greater plan.

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