We’ll be white-hot forever
We’re white-hot forever
We’ll be white-hot forever and ever and ever, amen
Tonight it all hit me. I felt this insane sense of overwhelm and… like I didn’t know who I was.
Moves are a funny thing. Landing at an unknown location, where you know absolutely no one, and feeling tasked to build a new life from the ground up. I can’t even begin to describe how difficult it is sometimes.
So much of our idea of who we are is strongly related to the things you do, and the environment you’re in. Your weekly Mahjong gatherings. The friends you greet every day. A space you feel comfortable in.
I feel like I’ve no idea who I am, where I am, or what to do. I’m going to-fro work without meaning. How do I begin, once again, to discover what a life in San Francisco means?
I look at the mirror and I don’t recognize myself. It’s rough. I don’t see the confidence I used to see. It’ll take time.
I worry too much–about too many things.
I worry though… when will it be enough? At what point will I make a decision where the next step in my career isn’t what I want?
Sometimes I wonder when the loss will be enough. It’s so hard to cope with the lossy nature of life; people fade away, die, move away.
Simultaneously, the pressure is so intense. I’m surrounded by so many brilliant and driven people; I don’t even know how I’ll match up… or if I will.
Onwards.
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