The purpose of it all

 

I was in my writing mood. This essay has no particular subject, meaning or purpose. I guess I’ll just talk about the things on my mind. I made an appointment and missed it again. I didn’t intend to, though. I wanted to go. I got so close to actually going. But I couldn’t. I know excuses don’t make it better; they don’t justify certain behaviors. My attitude towards life is unacceptable. But I grew into this mould, this pattern and now I seem to have stranded. It’s been like this for a while.

 

I feel rather bland, spoiled and useless right now. I don’t understand my current mood. My temper shifts and varies within the hour, it damages the ones around me but it mostly damages me. It’s nobody’s fault really. We seek answers in the wrongest of places at random times. Sometimes we’re not meant to know what’s behind every door, for some surprises aren’t necessarily pleasant.

 

There are things that can be avoided, paths that don’t need to cross. Yet it all happens for no apparent reason. We see, we collide, then we understand. I talk and talk, but I prefer my actions to weigh more, they seem more important in the long run.

 

Overanalyzing every move, every scenario, every human reaction, has become a past time for me, almost an obsession. I crave for logical answers, I look for understanding and a purpose for every move I make. And sometimes there just isn’t a magical ending to every story. I guess that’s my point. We look for the gold behind the rainbow, and sometimes there isn’t even a rainbow to begin with. We have to wish for the rain first, so the stupid rainbow can shine nice and bright for us to chase after.

 

It’s like we’ve been taught to hope for a better day, to fight for what we want, to never give up, to invest time into the things that matter, to overcome every obstacle, to keep up our spirits, to do good to others, to be kind and polite…god, so many things, so many ways of life… and who said that there is one right way to operate? Who made us judges and owners of the absolute truth? Who made us worthy/unworthy? Who said so? Who owns us all? Who has that key to solve and fix everything? I don’t know. Years have passed, so much pain and joy I’ve been through, and I have learned nothing. I don’t know who or what or where or when or anything. I remain clueless. I don’t have the key, I don’t have the answer. I sit here quietly. And sometimes that’s the best way to go, that’s the best thing to do: To do nothing.

 

I do not fit into the preconceived notion of what a person my age is supposed to be, I don’t fill the heart shaped mould. I am different, but I’m not the only one. I know I’m looking for answers, and I’m not alone in my quest. I meet and meet people down the road, people that know, people that don’t know. Just people from around the world. Some get ideas across, some sit quietly watching the stars, some give me their hearts on a daily basis. Some thoughts do get across, so I could say that even though I know nothing now, I’m learning something about life as we speak. Maybe I’m not all that broken after all. Maybe there is a meaning/purpose to it all. I’m not walking this road on my own, that’s for sure. People pass me by, some hold my hand through it all, some smile at me, some offer me a shoulder to lean on and weep. Some are friends. I know I don’t fit or belong here, but maybe, just maybe…I belong everywhere, in the hearts of my beloved friends. It is all about being happy I guess. It is all about finding yourself…so I will keep looking. That I’m sure of.