The Circle of a Question

So I question. I question my questioning. Especially over my own helplessness of understanding myself and how I relate to the world. It's a whirling motion that tries to absorb me into the "what-to-do": go with the flow or try to resist the temptation of a comfortable trend and express yourself. But doesn't expressing yourself make fall into another overused, postmodern cliche: "being into yourself". Aurea mediocritas, Latin wisdom would say. In other words, find a "warm" way. Yes, so the answer to the deadlock is somewhere in between. But wait, here comes the real dilemma: how do you know when you don't know?Or if you ever know anything sustainable? I'm in a state of pure amazement at the frailty of beliefs. It's as if nothing can absolutely take a solid, unbreakable stand. And people need that. An iron belief, way, anyway you label it, to hold on to. To define themselves. So you build a world of your own, strive to fill it with a product referred to as a selection of criteria, values that eventually get to define you. It's natural in adolescence, but later on...?What does questioning stand for?Where does it stem from?Or is it just another discovery of an already validated reality that's starting to gradually dawn in you as you face yourself and the world: maybe the entire scope of existence and maybe not an exclusive one, but an additional hallmark of your self-consciousness that ruthlessly follows you like a faithful but haunting shadow?

It feels like a moving circle, a dizzying experience and the next thing you need is something to hold on to. Just that right now the circle is different and it occured to you that it's another circle you entered. An apparently new enthralling circle comes up, but it somehow feels painfully absurd. The Bildungsroman is no longer your trail, or so you fool myself to believe, that it is a long-forgotten path. But what really strikes you is the ridiculousness of the previous circle, belief, whose validity you hardly doubted. You are no longer in possession of that certainty. Gradually, a new one takes over, however, with a weakened strength. It's that very "what if" new companion that makes everything  fade away. What if the new circle is another illusion you innocently embrace just to let go when next one dares to pop up. At least "what if" will have a seemingly unshattered permanence in your conscience. Your doubt is your one certainty, dear self.