Again, once more or moving on

What is it? I don't know. Every time, there comes a moment when I suddenly want to put my whole life in order. I want to put everything in a schedule and create a clear step-by-step plan. My mind falters because I wish I had everything clear already. While that never happens, I want to know everything. I desire to divide everything into steps. I long to see it all before I take a step, but I avoid looking at all those uncomfortable feelings.

The enormous passion and joy rises but falls when I think about the first steps. I take a step. And another one. And yet I distract myself with things I don't really want to do. I want to do it all, but which way is it? What is the path towards my desires?

I do know what I want. I know what I like and yet I keep convincing myself like I don't know. I forgot again. I have it somewhere, but I don't remember where or how. I forget why I want to get up from bed. I forget why I wanted to exercise. I forget why I wanted to dance to the music that lights me up as I let myself be carried away by the sounds of happiness or sadness. I forget why I wanted to paint and why a pencil is always where I need it. I forget why I see possibilities in ordinary situations. I forget why I can look at the stars in the sky. I forget why I enjoy the wind. And everything I want to do, see, and experience. I forget to live.

When I hear the wandering in my mind. Something is whispering that I have to try again and try again. A small sweet reminder that changes into demands. I must choose a way, find a way, and create a path. Time must be vanished.

I'm gone again. I think I forget. I think I need to know. I believe I have to choose a way, but in the meantime, I know. I am aware of why I shine. I am aware of why I enjoy life. I know why my eyes twinkle when I feel the freedom to create. I know. And yet. Yet I forget. Yet I know. Do I know?

I can't get out of bed. I'm not going out. I don't follow the little voice or the warmth in my heart. I don't go with the flow because the voice of fear is too big. I don't hear that I'm talking in a voice that isn't mine.

I'm not afraid. Not really. I'm free. Totally free. Why don't I see it? Why can't I hear it? Questions turn to judgments filled by low energies. That is just normal for me. I forcefully ask myself. I forcefully ask someone else. I'm stuck. I am in a prison of feathers. Feathers soft as love, but love is confusing and difficult. Love is open and open was scary. That's not necessary. Open is magical. Open is beautiful.

I can shine. I can live. No matter what anyone says. My mind can hold me back, but my mind can also create anything.