wait

at this junction, there are two signs. one to the left and the other to the right. I stand stationary, fidgeting at this opportunity to make a choice. I choose to wait, scratching my neck and the ends of my hair. it is rare that there are only two choices to make. What we do not see is sometimes dependent on what we do. After all, in making the choice to wait, the invisible third sign is followed. Perhaps I know all along that this choice seems obvious, being a person resistant to both action and change.

at this choice, the frustrating thing, however, is the onslaught of more choices: when do I make the next move? what determines the new choices? so do I wait further or move further, in a direction I have never taken before? If it is by nature that we are born free to choose, it is perhaps by culture that we deal with our choices and decide accordingly. I wonder if my indecisiveness, added with a tinge of shyness and insecurity, is culturally determined or it is an extension of my natural self that is pre-determined by the nature of being a third-born child. No...the question seems wrong. I cannot point to some original cause for the personality that I have now. I think it is no longer important but the remaining effect perhaps comes with the moment of choice-making. (apologetic, regretful or thankful)

The length of time it takes to let go (if possible) is possibly determined by multiple factors. Nevertheless, after eventually making a choice in the past, your entire behaviour thereafter is always a post-event as time ruthlessly moves on, and you feel compelled (either by choice or not) to be responsible to it. It catches up with you. I cannot stand the physical reminders. The emotional ones are worse.

I find it more absurd, to even try to explain this mental activity. Retrospective analysis always seem to be so distant from the actual event; the moment of exhilaration or anguish can never be captured. Just as the one time love I had for someone. Face the moment if not don't face at all. You are just going to be trapped by the old shackles of an old choice. Choices upon choices. But it always seems that we cannot escape this inevitability. It is like a bondage tied with knots we have forgotten how we did it and to entangle could only require divine help. I shall not go into my familiar territory of the paradoxical free will and divine predestination (as it still confuses many) but I truly believe that the best choices are always those done freely and pre-determined. After all, the rest is history.

--
while the ideas seem cool, the moment of the next choice still looms heavy over me. in the meantime, I am doing everything I can to wait; waiting is not always a bad thing. Suspense is.