Last summer, I sat down at the peer as I watched the tides set in. The sound of the waves crushing on the cliffs brought in a solitude in me that was beyond my recognition. Was it the fact that they brought me peace, or was it that for once in my life everything was working out?
By everything working out, did it mean that I was finally happy with all that’s happening or was it that everything I wanted, which doesn't necessarily bring me happiness, was working?
Am I so caught up in a reality that was set for me by others, that I’m slowly losing myself?
I don’t know who I am, so how can I help someone else if I don’t even know how to help myself?
I just want to scream sometimes but my voice is never loud enough. Not that I’m not trying, but because there’s always someone holding my throat, telling me, it’s not worth it. There’s no point because no one will hear you. What if someone hears me, then will they help me or will they assume someone else is meant to do that, thus ignoring the little sound I could create?
Are we so drawn to our day to day lives that we've forgotten what the outside looks like? What really matters in life?
What if what matters now is all pointless. Then are we just wasting precious time? Are we pushing away all the people who matter, just to get the satisfaction of those who don’t?
But this question arises, what if I’m actually happy, but I just don’t see it and probably take it for granted?
Wanting something that’s not yours, doesn't make you happy, it makes you more upset than before you knew it existed.