mindsearching

I can't help it. I'm feeling underqualified.

It's stupid, but as stated - can't help it. What if you call yourself something and someone comes along and calls it in question? I used to call myself a rhymemaker, just to escape the label of poet - stifling maybe, but coveted, undeserved. Unjust. When I published online, other poets gave me the what-for, that's for sure.

So, to be anything, you need everyone's seal of approval or at the very least - a certificate. So what can I do, who am I allowed to - be? After finishing my Master's degree I shall be allowed to write. In Polish. As in being a writer. Of course my degree will be more in culture studies than anything else, as long as we're splitting hairs.

I actually thought about being a philosopher, but it's hard too, what with my desire to 'do things right' in the eyes of the world. I don't have a Master's in philosophy. But maybe the words will give me an out? A writer writes. A philosopher - wisdom-loving one. To paraphrase, a philosopher loves thinking.

Do I love thinking? It's more of a love-hate relationship... thing. Not just sex either, although there is chemistry. And friction. And tension... . Actually it's more of a threesome, me with thinking and acting. For the time being, acting seems to be surprisingly - passive, contrary to popular assumptions and nomen omen. Thruth be told, sometimes thinking and acting play bondage games, leaving me to fend for myself - when there's no action and thoughts lead nowhere.

There's a lot of thinking going on. I think about being this and that, like this and like that. Then I write it down sometimes, like now - although now it's too late, it all sounded a whole lot better inside my head. Thinking insinuates itself between me and anything else, its movement sinful, a thin film, a surprisingly final barrier.