There was a time when I felt like I understood myself, that I was sure of what I had to do in life. When my worries were eased, my thoughts light-hearted.
In this world of 4.5 billion people, I always wonder if others strive to understand, too. Even now, I find myself wandering, still. Searching for meaning, trying to find the Truth. And sometimes, it’s a daily struggle that I consciously choose to numb out through both my action or inaction.
Sometimes I wonder what exactly I’m searching for. No… It’s this clarity of soul. It’s this ubiquity of desire. It’s this essence of thought. Beyond the rag-tag rabble of my daily life, that sometimes makes me forget what I’m looking for, in the quiet moments, I remember exactly.
Thing is, it feels so unbelievably hard to even connect with someone nowadays. People live their lives, disembodied from their true selves, just drifting around in the uncaring void of consciousness. It’s excruciating, but somehow we still stay alive, even if just on life-support.
But why…?
It’s like eating fine Mediterranean cuisine without tasting the crisp coarseness of the salt, the tangy olives, or the tart sun-dried tomatoes. Like kissing a lover deeply, without smelling the subtle hint of her light perfume or the way her dress flows around her slender legs. Or trying to understand someone, without first, listening.
Maybe I’m just the kind of guy who either puts it all in, or nothing at all. Maybe that’s the wrong way to do it. Maybe it’s right. I don’t know myself. All I can share is what’s my own, what I’ve seen, touched, smelt, tasted, experienced with my own senses.
And tomorrow’s always another day. I still swear to myself that it gets better.
But for tonight, I still wander, not out of want, but out of necessity.
The Diary of a Convicted Ladies' Man 