Too Many Questions

Why is it that at the moment I seem to be waking up that everyone around me seems to be lining their beds for lifelong hibernation? Why is it that I want to explore the world in all its chaos and beauty but everyone else wants to put up higher walls, close their eyes and believe that only their little world exists. Why as my lust for adventure, for novelty and danger grows does everyone around me seem to be seeking stability, predictability and standardisation of every aspect of their lives? Is there something wrong with me that I don’t want the same things? Why do the choices that appear to be so obvious to others feel like such a mystery to me? Why do the normal paths that others find self-evident and achieve with ease, present such a constant struggle? What is it about the normal progression that I find so intolerable? Do I just need to grow up? What am I fighting against? Is it an enemy that I have created? Am I fighting against myself? Am I sabotaging myself? Why do I feel the need to damage myself? Would just going along make me happy? Would I be selling out? Who am I? What do I want? Are those really the questions that matter? Is what I want even obtainable? Am I following my dreams or running away from reality? Is it even reality? Is it a good thing to running away from it? Is it all a lie? Has it become truth only through weight of numbers? Is everyone else blind to the truth or am I afraid of having to admit I’m wrong? Will they judge me if I’m wrong or accept my admission and welcome me back? Will they notice? Do they care? Who are ‘they’? Are they really happy? Is it important to get married? Do I need to buy a house? Is it alright if I don’t want children? Am I selfish? Am I over-indulged and entitled?