A lack of understanding
Some people, places, and things are much more straightforward than others. The intentions meet the actions, clear as day and as fluid as a river. Most of which are good-natured. Even if they aren’t, there is an obvious way to rationalize it. There are always explanations, never excuses. Others are more viscous and vicious either by nature or by creation. The actions dodge the intentions, sometimes somersaulting backward into oblivion.
Confusion must be a form of stupidity applied to both the confuser and the confused. I must be a fool for thinking that way. Confusion is not an indicator of any kind of intelligence. But it surely indicates my emotional status. My mind is constantly scattered like dandelion seeds in a strong wind, hoping to find the best soil to grow in. The dandelion seeds create a fog that sometimes feels impenetrable. The only way out is to avoid it. However, avoiding my source of confusion is like ignoring the need to drink water. I need to understand why so I can finally sleep at night.
I am like a wanderer in a dense forest searching for the faintest glimmer of sunlight through the trees. The more I grapple with the intricacies of my emotions, the deeper I sink into the labyrinth of my own making.
Thus, like the dandelion seeds seeking fertile ground, my thoughts are searching for a foundation on which to settle. It's a quest for understanding, an attempt to make sense of the chaos that swirls within. Yet, the more I analyze, the more elusive the answers become, slipping through my fingers like water. The very act of dissecting my confusion seems to spawn more questions than it resolves.
In these moments of introspection, I realize that the source of my confusion is not always external; it often resides within the recesses of my own mind. It's a product of conflicting desires, unspoken fears, and the intricate dance between heart and mind. The fog, it seems, is not solely a result of external influences but is, in part, a manifestation of my internal struggles.
Understanding becomes not just a desire but a necessity.