I thought I was doing something good with my life but now I don’t know any more. I feel like I’m on a steady journey but I don’t feel like I’m living. Even in the most inspirational career path I still feel like there’s something missing. A part of me believes that travel will fix this, but I have travelled through Europe and Asia and I have come home revived with a new appreciation for life – but it is never permanent. I almost feel a detachment from who I thought I was going to become and how I really am.
Moaning to my dear mother, I proclaimed, “Everything is boring! Everyone is boring!”. Her response being, “You need love in your life”.
Kind and true words but I have searched for love and there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t continue to look for it. But I feel like it’s all wasted energy for my progress in ‘love’ is the same today as it was a year ago.
People seldom capture my attention any more. I find them stock-standard and mundane. Not only that, but somehow I have developed into this unique person (certainly not a bad thing) but simultaneously this unique person is so different that she has trouble developing close relationships with people.
Perhaps it’s through all the changes that come with growing up, graduating and all that, the heartbreaks and the losses. Sometimes I feel as if I lost more from the friendships that ceased than I learnt from them. I lost the ability to easily bring people close to my heart. Sometimes I can feel that part of me that can warm to people so naturally come back, and when she returns it is bliss – I feel bliss. But she never stays for long. She goes and I find myself stuck in friendships that I fear and curse to let close to my heart.
I am no longer the girl I used to be, moving into my 20s next year it’ll be a new beginning but it frightens me where I’m heading to. I used to be so sure of myself but as each day goes by I feel an ounce of confidence slither away from me into a locked jar named ‘the past’.
I speak of the past in such minuscule terms because for each person we really can go through life without making any noticeable dent in this universe. Of course there’s all our carbon emissions and the technical side to it, but what about when every person we have ever met has died? Every thing we created has been destroyed? Then what was it all for?
Sure, the history books will tell of our ‘great’ leaders. Those who were loved and those who were feared, but are those stories written of those people truth? Is anything written in history how it really was? I could write of people I’ve known and events that have occurred, but it would be nothing but my perspective on such things. There is no universal monitor of the truth, a corrector, a peacekeeper or a resolver. We often foolishly believe what we hear or read as if honesty is a universal language. I am almost here to believe that the honest truth of any story is more fictitious than the story itself. That is, the bias smothered over each scenario is so thick that the scenario itself is in clear view to no one who sees it.
Simultaneously, it’s not common knowledge but necessarily should be that society is a man-made creation. Every thing that we believe exists because of judgement, praise, jealousy, desire, and the list goes on. I think the reason why many humans have problems accepting other cultures is because they have been constructed differently from that of their own. The social norms are different because the priorities and ideologies of those regions viewed certain concepts as more important than others. That is how we grow as people and as nations. It may not be positive growth or well-meaning, but once it’s infectiousness hits it will take generations and generations to repair.
liripip 