It's been six years since the first inklings of my self-discovery thoughts appeared, and I still haven't found many answers. I still don't know what to do with my life, I haven't found any passion, and all meaning seems to disappear some time or another. There's basically nothing I'm living for, but rather than thinking that's natural, I'm becoming impatient with myself. I'm so lost in all of this complexity when I should at least be looking toward something, or knowing one thing with certainty and moving on from there.
Instead, I have nothing.
Most people have that firm conviction of at least one fact about themselves, and they form a spiderweb of possibility and opportunity from there. For example, just knowing that you like to make things with your hands, and then moving on in the direction of mechanical engineering. But I don't know what I like to do, because even if I do like art and music and books, I only get those sporadic bursts of passion. That's not reliable when you're going to do something for your whole life, so I just make them hobbies and look for something else; something that exists closer to my core.
And I haven't found it.
I don't want to believe I've fallen into complete disinterest and apathy. Well, just stating that makes it false, right? Or at least a small portion of it. Sigh, I'm always giving in to alternate interpretations of things; maybe I should just go into a career dealing with semantics, seeing as how I'm so anal about definitions and things in black and white. I know nothing will ever be in black or white or completely definite, of course, but I just wish everything were that easy to understand.
In any case, all I want is to do something with my life and derive meaning from that. I just don't know how to go about that.
Maybe I should look a bit more where I haven't been searching, yeah? But where is that?