...uncertain

I find myself to be... uncertain. Full of questions, full of plausible answers, full of rebuttals, but mostly... uncertain. If forced, I can make decisions and at times I believe that I know what I want, yet everyday or should I say daily am I tormented by this feeling of dread brought on by my... uncertainty. In everything that I do, every decision that I make, every thought that I hold, and wish that I dream, I am unsure and insecure, doubtful and dubious, unsettled and hesitant. I am... uncertain. The punctuation at the ends of my sentences would not exist(,) if only the rules that made it necessary did not either. How glorious would that be? Can't say. My life follows the curve, line and dot that are the question mark.

Is it wrong to be uncertain, would the world not be a better place if we all knew our limits? Knew that we did not know? Started with the certainty that we are all full of uncertainty and worked from there. i. don't. know.

Why are there tears brimming? Rather than fear of the unknown, is it sadness, or might it be... misinterpreted jubilation? I know not.

As I hover over the "submit an entry" button, I feel... uncertain about posting this. But I must, close my eyes and take the plunge. ... ... ...

or must I?

I am... u n c e r t a i n