Withlina

A day with no sun. Another day where feelings float. People walk with purpose. I feel like I don’t belong. The sound of pages flipping, voices blending together, and the smell of coffee in the air. Everything feels both familiar and distant. I want to escape, yet time keeps chasing me. I feel like the wind—everywhere and nowhere at the same time. I know, but I don’t. I exist, but I don’t.

As we grow up, we all have a dream that feels too heavy, like a place we can never reach—or at least we think so. Yet, it is sweet, almost like an addiction. We imagine ourselves becoming someone, doing something for a reason. Some people even work hard for it and actually make it happen.

Do they feel happy after achieving their dreams? I wonder what they feel.

As for others, they watch people achieve their dreams and are left with an inferiority complex. I wonder if there is truly a person who is genuinely happy for them. Some even question if it was easy for them or how they seem to have everything. Do they know how hard they worked and how much they had to sacrifice? And was it worth it?

I once read somewhere that success is not just a marathon you finish but an endless one that never truly ends. That is how you are able to keep going for the long run. Once you achieve the dream you once thought was impossible, I wonder if you feel empty and ask, “What do I do now?” Do you feel a burst of excitement, only to fall into emptiness again? I wonder.

For me, I had this imagination of becoming someone, yet I never felt desperate for it. Now, it feels like a wind passing by.

My everyday life goes on and on with no clear purpose, just standing still. My existence itself feels like wind—you feel it, but it is never remembered.

I wonder what will be remembered of me.

It is strange, because in the end, I made myself this way. I once longed for affection and attention more than anything. Now, I have made myself a loner. I still long for affection and things of this world that may not even be real and will never truly satisfy me, yet I am so comfortable with the way things are, just being like a wind passing by.

Feeling empty.

I do want to have everything I dream of, but I guess I am not desperate enough to go for it. I am a coward, scared of things that have not even happened. What am I doing? Why am I wasting my life like this?

I do want to make my life count. I do want to do His will. I am scared of what I am doing because I know it has consequences. Yet, I cannot fully bring myself to get my life together and follow His will.

I used to think doing His will meant something grand, something that makes a big difference. But now, I realize that His will, for me, is simply to come to Him every day. Still, I cannot seem to do that. I keep falling into the same cycle, desiring things that are not even worth it.

My thoughts, my life—it all feels like it is slipping away. My soul longs for Him. I am weak, and I call myself a coward. Yet sometimes I wonder—if I were truly a coward, wouldn’t I have fully submitted to Him out of fear? Yet it doesn’t seem that way.

What can I do? What should I do? I know, but I just cannot do it.

I am just an existence, passing by like a wind—gone without even knowing I was ever here.