Chocolate chip or blueberry?
Get engaged or break up? Graduate or drop out? Renew my lease or move? Get a dog or travel? Buy groceries or textbooks or new sandals because my soles are wearing thin? Breathe or stop?
Live or die?
There's nothing wrong with what you're asking me.
We're ordering breakfast, but the chair is so hard and my shoes are too tight and is it hot in here?
The room seems smaller and the menu longer and strangers are staring over their cups of tea because I'm taking too long to pick pancakes.
It's hard to pick pancakes when your mind is asking and solving every question you could ever face from this breakfast to your deathbed. It's hard to pick pancakes.
So, both. Neither. Whichever you want. I smile and sip my coffee. I know that I want these feelings to stop. I don't know what kind of pancakes I want.