Sometimes I just wonder will I ever have someone who would listen to me. These are times when you start questioning your being and purpose of life. It somehow doesn’t make any sense and I wonder what it is in it for me.
When you are little, people keep telling you to follow your dreams and when you grow up they even don’t let you try. Somehow these people make you kind of loose perspective of what you doing and what you want from yourself and others. Reality keeps getting stranger and stronger for you to understand and take.
All this while all you are trying to do is keep your mind off these things, you are constantly trying to protect your self from this inevitable question of WHAT THE FUCK IS LIFE? Its frustrating cause the moment you figure out what you want from life it’s somehow not enough. It’s not enough to keep you happy or content. Love, Money, fame, friends, family, everything sounds vague and not worth the pain to live off one whole lifetime.
All of them seems hypocrites and cowards who themselves are struggling to find their way out of the same mess and trying to get out of it by putting you on trial basis. It’s not fair. But that’s what life all about, right?
I keep dreaming of this better life to come, the kinds that they show on TV, the luxury, the fame, the love, all of it, dreaming of all those things that advertising companies make you believe you can have by drinking a cola or wearing a watch. But I know it’s not true. You can’t have it all. But sometimes when I am walking on the streets I see all these happy faces, they are content and laughing, sometimes it feels they are laughing on me. I wish I could be them, switch places or something. But then my useless self-esteem reminds me that you are here so you can be YOU, an individual. Apparently my thoughts, my wants and my needs have to be different from others and I have to fight to stay true to myself. But the truth is that everyone is looking for the same thing, everyone has the same want and everyone is trying to figure out same shit. How does that make me any different from you?
So the question still remains and by now I figured it’s not money, its not fame or even love for the matter that makes life worthwhile. May be it’s the misery of it all. Misery, which seems more human than any of these. And if I figured it all out right than may be right now I am more human than I ever was.
