Boundless Blogger

A raw reflection on fluctuating between discipline and desire — and why living in extremes feels both intoxicating and exhausting.

There are days when I don’t want to be wise.

I don’t want to be the sorted one.
The mindful one.
The “I know better” one.

Sometimes, I just want to live recklessly — not destructively, just freely.
To do what I want without filtering it through morality, productivity, or long-term consequences.
To silence that inner voice that constantly whispers, “Is this right? Is this aligned? Is this mature?”

There is a strange pleasure in disobedience.
In choosing desire over discipline.
In tasting life without measuring it.

And in those moments, I feel alive.

Not responsible.
Not spiritual.
Not evolved.

Just alive.

But here’s the catch — the freedom feels intoxicating only for a while.
Then comes the other side.

The thinker returns.
The observer awakens.
The one who wants to justify every action.

And suddenly, the same freedom that felt expansive now feels foolish.
I question myself.
Was I being authentic — or just impulsive?
Was I living fully — or escaping accountability?

And just like that, I walk back into the prison of norms.
Structure.
Self-correction.

I fluctuate between these extremes —
Total control.
Total abandon.

And sometimes I wonder —
Why is there no comfortable middle for me?
Why does moderation feel dull?
Why does balance feel uninspiring?

Maybe because extremes are intense.
And intensity makes me feel something.

Living on the “right” side gives me identity.
Living on the “wild” side gives me aliveness.

And perhaps I am addicted to both.

But here is what I’m slowly understanding —
The fluctuation is not confusion.
It is integration in progress.

The part of me that wants to be disciplined isn’t my enemy.
And the part of me that wants to break rules isn’t immoral.

One seeks stability.
The other seeks experience.

One protects.
The other explores.

Maybe the problem isn’t that I live in extremes.
Maybe the problem is that I judge myself for it.

What if both sides are teachers?
What if freedom without awareness becomes chaos,
and discipline without joy becomes imprisonment?

Maybe the middle isn’t boring.
Maybe it’s subtle.
Quiet.
Unannounced.

Maybe balance doesn’t feel dramatic —
which is why I miss it.

I am not unstable.
I am layered.

And perhaps growing up is not aging. It is truly growing. It is learning to let desire breathe. Yet, it should not let it drive the car.

It is allowing discipline
without letting it suffocate the soul.

I don’t have the perfect conclusion yet.
I still swing.

But now, instead of asking,
“Why am I like this?”

I ask,
“What is this phase trying to teach me?”

And that question feels softer.
Kinder.

Maybe I don’t need to choose one side forever.
Maybe I just need to become conscious while walking both.

And maybe…
that is the real freedom.

Related: 5 Life Choices You Shouldn’t Follow Just Because Everyone Else Is Doing Them

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