As I move forward on this strange journey I feel much like a traveller forced to travel. Not that that wasn’t apparent before. But the backdrop is just as important as I am. Every day is different but still monotonous. I do the same things every day, but I have different feelings and different memories I keep and discard of each day. I don’t know if I should be doing things differently. I can separate each day from the other and still bunch them up together.
There’s so much I have to revive, get out of me and out of the way. I have lived inside my head and when those thoughts began manifesting as emotions I was surprised. Therefore the scenery matters. The backdrop inspires much emotion in me, on rainy days I am just as glum. The backdrop can be conversations I share with people, they steer my memories and my heart. I have never been so vulnerable. I cry at the drop of a hat and write like my hands have no control over the pen.
This time between being at an all-time low and coming out of it entirely is boring. But sometimes the most uneventful of days results in the most unique of perspectives. I have slowly begun analysing my life for what it is and the more I delve into it the more I realise that it has been a very short journey thus far. There is an incredibly long way to go for me. I don’t want to mistakenly sell myself short. But looking back at my life is like ripping a band-aid off a wound. It hurts at first, but slowly you start to feel ok. Life is much like that whether you’re going forwards or back.
But it’s really my surroundings that influenced whether it was the bad memories or the good ones. Every decision I took was externally bound. I thought I was pushing the lid, but really I was jumping from one box to the next box. I am more self-aware now, and it’s important I realised to see from both sides, that side that you love and the side that scares you, which is most probably your conscience speaking. I thought I was the bravest person until I couldn’t face my own future because I was so afraid of it. And I have to accept that I am scared. Every day feels like another leaf falling off the tree and as much as O. Henry being right, I feel like he still can’t take the edge off of feeling like that. But he was onto something. It was his way of saying “Take it easy.”
Maybe some days are sunny and some days are downright unbearable. But they all have a reason. I was living thinking every single one of the days I have lived was overwhelmingly sad. But my conscience knows that really there were some bright days. I have forgotten the brighter days because I was so absorbed in the bad times. So absorbed in the idea that I am going to be sad for the rest of my life and my life doesn’t have meaning or purpose.
I have come to accept that it doesn’t matter if I have a purpose, a job or something, that’s not why I am living. Those are things you do while you’re here, but life I think is about coming to terms that you are alive. It’s about that short space of time you get to make the most out of. All of it can’t go in making everyone else happy. I want some happiness to call my own. If I can’t think of any happy memories I have decided to make my own. Till now my happiness was associated with other people, but now it’s my own little secret. It could be a song, a poem or just a smile but all mine. As long as I am fighting I’d like to do it right. If the scenery isn’t bright enough, I am going to add some colour and make it pop.