I don’t know when it happened exactly; when I stopped looking at the things with wonder and started looking at my phone for meaning. It wasn’t a decision. It was just… slow forgetting. A drift.
And now here I am in the middle of the night, half-conscious in my days, half-sincere in my choices, trying to remember why I began any of this to begin with.
Was it joy I was chasing? Or just approval? I don’t even know anymore.
There’s this quiet noise in my head, always asking: what’s next, what’s next? But no one taught me how to ask: what’s now?
I go through routines like they’re sacred rituals,
but they don’t make me feel sacred.
Just efficient. Manageable. Predictable.
I catch glimpses of silence sometimes, between work, between tasks, between thoughts. Like a bird landing on a branch, then flying off before I can breathe.
Sometimes I wonder: What would remain, if I dropped all of it? The performance. The proving. The pretending to be someone worth becoming.
Would I disappear?
Or would I finally appear?
No answers. Not yet, I guess. Just questions. Too many and growing by day. But maybe that’s the point.
To sit still with the not-knowing. To let the silence answer in its own time. To learn how to listen again. Not to the world, but to the part of me I buried beneath all the noise.
Maybe that’s all I need to do right now, maybe these writings will yield something. And help me. Not fix. Not plan. Just… listen. To me, the real me.
I think, sometimes, I talk too cryptic. But anyways what’s the point in dumbing it down. The whole world is already being dumbed down and will soon reduce to nothing but empty people, shallow literature, and short discussions.
But I will not let me drift. Not again.
#Unself
Last updated: 2025-05-26