Broken Compass

It's strange having no dreams at all. I only have it-would-be-nices now. Or at least that's what I believe. Do I really want to believe it? Perhaps having dreams is too much of a hassle, too painful.

Am I bullshitting my time away?

I wonder what I'd be doing if this year hadn't been what it is. Or even going further back, if my original plans had worked out in 2017. There's plenty of things I would change about this year if I could, things that would've shaped it in a completely different way. Currently, I feel as it time just flies by and life is falling off my hands like water. I've pushed myself forward even when I didn't feel I could, and probably helped in saving a life most precious to me, never asking for a reward whatsoever, just keeping that name on my mind 24/7. I know I lost a bit of myself during that process, but it's a small price to pay when I decide to carry my world on my shoulders. And yet, it's hard looking at that double-check mark under that name stay gray for days, with seemingly no intention of turning blue. But that is just me, focusing what really bothers me into just a small symbol in a dimly lit screen. Of course there's more to it than that, but I...

I'll soon turn 24. This year has shaken me to the core, beaten me up like none before, and it has also taught me I haven't been honest to myself. It has felt like a nightmare I haven't been able to wake up from, but I've also felt the deepest love, strong as I didn't think I'd ever feel. I learned that during a crisis, the worst thing you can do is lie to yourself and not pay attention to what you truly feel. And yet, sometimes the crisis is what you need to realize you've been lying to yourself and change that, though you will always worry about being too late. I worry about it every single day, with just one name in my head. I can't punch my way through a storm, yet I fight on. I collapse, emotionally broken, and yet  I keep on feeling. Once my mind is made up, I feel only death can stop me. After all, the love I feel and place in one name, matters more than anything else.

If I had the opportunity to go far away and leave it all behind, would I take it? I doubt it. After all, my thoughts and worries would come with me. And my feelings, the things that weight the most in my life, if I try to ignore them, they will always be deep within my heart.

I have this book, some sort of journal a foreign friend gave to me. On its cover it reads "Life begins at the end of your comfort zone". Now, I have never been the kind of guy keep a journal going for a long time. I normally write a couple entries and that's that. But this little journal, I decided to make it a little different. Instead of writing in it, I keep little scraps of paper, some letters, pictures, drawings, little things like those. I have never been one to write about my past but I collect little pieces of it. Whenever I see one of those papers, the memory of how it came to my possession comes back. Receipts from gifts I got for those I care about, the receipt of the first time I went to have lunch with person I love the most, small letters given to me for my birthday, and some other small papers that actually bring back bad memories, that sort of things. In a way, I can revive those days and keep them close to me. When I look back on that path I have walked o...