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Sometimes I don't feel myself. As in I have no clue who I am, what I am and why I even bother.
It's not like I don't care about things.
It's not like I can't be bothered.
On the contrary, I care very much.
Bad memories and good memories flash by me every now and then. They don't come one after another, they just merge into a big pool of mushy thoughts. Things remind me of things. It's as simple as that. It's normal.
I'd be lying if I said that I feel like I can make a difference in anything. I feel stupidly restless, not uninspired but also not very inspired either. It's like I want to share what I believe in, I want to stand up for it. Thought every time I try, I feel anxious about things that come with it. "Getting involved" is very social on some levels.
"Getting involved" requires me to make contact with other people. And WHOA. That's scary. Wait no, not really scary. Just overwhelming. Disappointing when it doesn't work like I want it to.
Yes people say "surround yourself with the right people". I am surrounded by people I care about, but maybe I want to go further than that. Maybe I want to surround myself with people that I don't get along with that well. Maybe it's good to get through that disgusting, awkward feeling of not belonging and wanting to go home. Or maybe it's not good at all?
I heard a woman say "we need to redefine success"
I suppose she meant us as humans. Us as a society?
Then I wondered what I define as successful. I could be really plain and say "happiness in life" -
Truthfully, I have no idea.
Every now and then there are these moments when I feel like everything is brilliant and no matter what happens everything, yes everything, will turn out alright. I got it all figured out. I'm radiant, glowing and ready to take on everything I've ever thought of doing.
And then just out of nowhere. Something just hits me and it feels utterly pointless to want to do anything at all.
I'm happy, trust me. I'm really happy. It's just the general weird odd big thing called life that freaks me out. Maybe it's not big at all. Maybe it doesn't matter and maybe it does.
I suppose being happy is one of the things I'd define as success. It's sort of egoistical, don't you think? I feel like being happy requires me to take a step back from money and instead focus more on emotion, on place, on connection. More on myself and what I want. Sure yeah I'd call it egoistical but then again I'm the only one who is always going to live my life. I have to make decisions that'll keep me sane.
I'd also like to leave an impression on friends and acquaintances. Not for my own sake but more for others. Sort of like leaving an impression of inspiration, of feeling empowered. I'd like to make others feel strong and worthy.
I'd like to do the best I can and live sustainably but also not forcefully and extremely restricting. I'd like to play my part but what even is my part? Where do I stand? What do I do?
I make the simple choices. What do I eat? Where do I shop?
But is it enough?
I don't know where these thoughts are going. I don't think I have anything to say.
I'm going to fill this blog with things that inspire me an I hope you might enjoy them too.
I sit in a café while type this text, look outside the window and sip some really good coffee. Why can't this just be enough? Why do I feel like something dramatic must happen? Why does life feel transitional all the time? Like I'm in an endless space of change.
Take some pictures.
Look at them when you feel like you're not doing anything.
As yourself questions.
Love yourself. Get some candles that smell like sweet vanilla.
Love the people you care for with all the love you have.
Care for yourself just the same.
Tell the truth but don't bother when somebody else does not want to accept it.
The girl with brightly coloured hair you see in the bus every now and then. An elderly grey man wearing a heavy coat passes by you as you are looking for your wallet in-between random receipts you should've never kept, cheap gum, several notebooks and other objects you've forgotten you were carrying around in the first place. Then there is the couple, you see they're both deeply in love with one another after many years of two-someness.
Sometimes I imagine everybody as a bundle of string. Each person traces their path, subtly and gently weaving their lives around the city. There must be a lot of string around. Interwoven, intertwined, interconnected but barely touching, if at all. It's like a woven carpet made by everybody. Nobody more special then the other. Some trying harder, some less. Still human. Still just living a life. Short and step after step. Some in thought, some rushing instinctively. Nowhere in particular.
I see in black and I see in white, there is no in-between for me at the moment. I am overwhelmed, I am anxious and I wonder what the hell it is that keeps me going now and then. It's irrational and I know I am passionate about things, I know what I believe in. But it's like everything slips sometimes. I don't know how to share my thoughts. I am angry and I am sad, I work hard but feel like I don't do enough. I sleep little because I dream too much. There is a tornado in my mind, it's shaking me about.
Walk. Bus. Walk. Keys. Stairs. Home.
Breathe.
Breathe.
It's ok.
It's just a state, it's just a period of hurting and a period of healing. Figuring out how to handle all that I've gotten myself into. Step by step. Reading bullshit in-between people's sentences. I'm tired. Wait there is more course work. Great.
Previously I've lived in moments of extreme stress. Things went wrong all the time, but now everything is going ok. And that's strange.
Reading / Read recently
Night & Day - Virginia Woolf
The Age of Reason- Jean-Paul Sartre
Moonlight into Marzipan -Sunetra Gupta
The Wander Society - Keri Smith
Words can't always explain what you feel. It's alright to just merge with your emotions now and then. Take time off for yourself and figure out what's going on.