I’ve got a bad feeling about this…

Not really, no. It just. Well. Me and my brother used to laugh at this line from StarWars for some time ago. And I was going to write something about having this odd feeling. Oh, I’m not very clear with my words today. Let’s try again.

Today, or actually recently, I have been having this feeling like I’m getting close. That the mystery of my life, or particularly the mystery of the purpose of my life, would be coming clear. I can’t really explain it. I just feel, I sense that I’m close. I just need to keep going and in time it will happen. Mystical? Naive? Just stupid?

I have always thought I’m a realistic person. I do have imagination, of course, how could I write otherwise? And I do have pretty interesting ideas sometimes, ideas that I need to buckle up so they won’t explode. And take me with them. Flying. Above. Never coming back.

I need to be seen. Well, who wouldn’t?

I found an old writing of mine where I had thought the purpose of life. I’m going to read to you a part of it.

Why do I excist? What is my purpose? Why anybody excists? What is the purpose of one human being? Why have we been invented, made, created, why do we have thoughts? I don’t know. Sometimes I don’t even care. Sometimes I can’t get sleep from these thoughts. Questions. Secrecies of life.

If I make some bread, I make it for it to be eaten. Does the bread know that it’s purpose is to be eaten and is it happy when it happens? Or does a bread dream about being some butter that is spreaded on other breads; or a knife that cuts the bread? Does it ever question it’s being, that why it is just a bread and why can’t it ever cut some breads? Does a bread know it is a bread?

Haha. I mean. I don’t actually think breads could think. But it simplifies the thought. Do I know what I am or am I just dreaming about something just as bizarre than a bread cutting another? Does anybody?

Some people do, I believe. Those who have accomplished something they believed in. Those who had the courage and the strength to change things. Make a move. I look up to those people. You’re great. Keep going! And maybe I will someday know am I a bread or a knife.


My personal life

That is the most intriguing question. My life. Above all others. I’m pretty convinced everyone agrees. So why not start with it.

Sometimes I’m just devastated when I don’t know what am I doing with my life. Just hanging around? Wasting the day for another day to come? Sometimes I feel very strongly that there must be something else. More. Something important. And I can’t get it. Like it’s lurking somewhere behind me, beside me, somewhere so close I could almost catch it. But never will. It’s frustrating!

It wasn’t long time ago I wrote to my notebook: If there was just me to think I knew exactly what to do. The truth is, there is not just me. Somedays I wish I was alone. Just me and my thoughts. My words. I love words by the way. I look up to people who know how to use them. Anyway, there are others. Always. I’m not sure am I happy about it or not. It’s hard for me to think about me when I could think about others. It’s not funny. It’s pretty sad, really.

Some wise man told me once that truly unselfish actions are those we make for ourselves. He justified it well but I can’t remember it anymore. I guess it had something to do with that when we are allowed to do the things that truly matter to us, we are happy, and when we are happy, we treat others better. It took some time for me to understand. I’m learning it, but not yet there. There is really nobody taking care of me if I don’t do it. Scary. In a way.

Oh well. What would I do then, if it was just me. Travel. Study. See things. Change. Move to foreign countries just to see how is life there. Anything else than this blandness of my life. My husband told me today when we were arguing, that I should do things, make myself happy and not wait him to help me with it. I agree, again, in a way. On the other hand I feel like he could do something as well. What should I do? Am I happy? Am I even contented? Am I alive?

Sometimes I feel the only option left is to start anew. Somewhere else. With somebody else. Then again I do feel that all the problems I have I have them in me. Inside. It’s quite possible that I wouldn’t be any happier with anybody. Even with some long lasted crush of mine. I do have those, who wouldn’t? If it was the One, still? I would be me, anyway. It wouldn’t change. So, I’m getting to a conclusion, the only thing I can change is myself. My thoughts. My ways of seeing things, doing things, dreaming of things. How to settle in everyday life when all I need is a change? I think the change has begun. I need to take responsibility of me. Stop being there for everybody else.

Do you agree?