Fancy words, cyclical thoughts.

Decide.
It’s a much harsher word than you expect. Originates from Latin. The “-cide” ending basically indicates some kind of cutting off or “killing.” You’ll note it in other words such as “suicide,” (killing oneself) “homocide,” (killing someone else) “parricide,” (killing one’s parents)… the list goes on and on. So how does it apply to our harmless little verb “decide”? Good question. When combined with the prefix “-de,” (a French preposition meaning “from”) the etymological meaning of the word runs something like “to choose from,” or “to cut off from.” The actual action of “deciding” is interpreted as choosing one destiny by cutting off (“killing”) the other. It sounds pretty drastic, but, on the whole of it, it’s pretty damn accurate. It makes that harmless little verb so much more difficult and scary. I am not merely picking one option over another; I am in fact killing off the other path, so that it can never live again! How frightening! I don’t want to burn all bridges; I want to make one decision in hopes that, if necessary, some other decision may be brought to life. I can’t kill it off completely! How drastic!
But then again, this is all cyclical, and points back to my desire for everything, my love of life, my ceaseless curiosity. Last night I was lying in bed, thinking about all the things I want. The list was endless… I can’t have everything. I must kill some destinies, let them lie sleeping forever. Some were never meant to be.
But I can’t! I can’t make a decision! I want to always have the freedom! I want a little bit of everything. No, I want a lot of everything. I want it all…
And thus, my conundrum…

I am still reconsidering the RA position, despite having turned in the acceptance form. I can still back out, but I’m afraid of the repercussions. It may mean not being hired by University Housing in the future. But I can’t say that for sure. Some friends have told me that they’ll appreciate my ability to step down, and to understand that perhaps I should not, at this point in my life, have this job.
I wish I could list all the pros and cons, but I’ve done so endlessly, and concretely outlining them doesn’t seem to have any intrinsic value. It would just heighten the confusion. I know this isn’t as huge of a deal as choosing a major (don’t even get me started on that), but it’s just another example of my inability to make firm decisions. The second I have chosen something, I second-guess it ad nauseum, until I question what I even wanted in the first place. It’s sickening. I don’t need help doing the things I do. I do many things very well. I just need help choosing what to do. Sometimes I long for the days when everything was in fact spelled out for you… you would do what your father did, on the same land, in the same place, forever. It sounds so terrible now, but the infinite choices are sometimes just as scary. I love the freedom. It’s nice to be able to choose whatever I want. At the same time, it’s overwhelming.