Sometimes being out of place in the circles that I’m in makes me question of my significance to the people around me. I guess it’s human nature to be acknowledged, to want people to know that you exist. But then again being out of place makes me realize how liberating being out of place can be..to be away from the noise, from unwanted thoughts. From unwanted people.
Sometimes I don’t want people to know I exist anyway.
It’s tiring sometimes. It drains me quicker than a phone drains its battery. But then to recharge my soul takes the longest time possible because I’d have to process and filter all the thoughts throughout the experience. It’s like a system reboot, just on the soul.
Loneliness can get the better of me sometimes, but I know I’m not alone. And the weird thing is that I can feel extremely lonely when playing the sport that I used to love so much, so dearly.
I’m getting used to this…
I’m already used to this.
It’s easy to be overwhelmed by the surging emotions that tells you to do everything at once. The zeal to want more for the betterment of yourself. But then again baby steps matter
I’ve been on a cleaning spree for the past few days, and as I rummaged through my room, a section of it were stacks of papers that I hadn’t read in a while. As I scanned through the lines of words I found solace, a comfort that I never thought would help me today. It was the struggles I went through back then, how sincere I was in searching for happiness. How desperate I was to kill the loneliness I was experiencing, and more importantly, how needy I was to become human again. I can’t help but to look down on myself now, because who I was back then was more…a sincere person, in a sense that I really wanted life. I can’t find any other word to replace sincere, because that’s how I truly felt. I just wanted guidance. A direction, and a way to follow.
I keep coming back to my past, not because I want to change them. I can’t. It’s impossible. But I come back there because I want to search for the debris that I had left behind, the failure to fly off to success, and the causes of that failure. I didn’t know I had potential back then, to grow, to become someone successful. But success is defined differently by everyone. Back then it was all materialistic; I had defined success in terms of achieving material possessions. And of fame and status. It’s a no no for me now.
As I grow day by day I am learning from my failures. I am learning to be more open towards people around me. I want to get to know people better. I want to know how they live their lives, their aspirations and what they really hope to achieve in this life. People are interesting. The more I know them, the more I realise how ignorant I am of my existence, and how little to no knowledge I have of the world around me. Even my family. I haven’t really known them well enough to say I already memorised their dreams and aspirations. People change and they keep changing. Although the occasional gatherings now glue us together and we’d have a chat or two on our objectives in life, deep inside we’re not hardwired to each other.
Until then, I have more searching to do.
It’s easy to be cornered by all the negative energy surrounding you. All the vibes that’s killing your optimism. It’s easy to be caught in the turmoils of life, staying there, becoming hypnotised by the endless murmurs of pessimism, a voice we don’t need, a voice we should always shun.
That’s why burying sadness is hard labour. Make the effort today, tomorrow, and forever to plant the seeds of optimism in your life. But how?
Be away from whatever makes you sad. Don’t come near it.
It’s hard labour.
It’s labour day; just another day to be happy.
Just another day to remain optimistic about life.
Just another day..to grab all the opportunities for a good life.
Do what makes you happy.
For a day, every day – be content with yourself.
Keep labouring life.