back from the grave?
Erh, again?
Well, the truth is I haven’t written anything in the past half a year (with the exception of bio, chem, and physics notes, which are neither original nor in full sentences with appropriate grammar) and – let’s be honest to ourselves here – my writing as of now sucks. Period.
And because of that I’m afraid to write. Because I’m afraid of doing anything I suck at.
It’s not like there’s anyone who’s reading what I write here (except for a few here and there who manage to somehow stumble onto this obscure little blog [which I'm thankful for]), just like how there’s no one watching when I do whatever else I do. It’s just that I’m afraid of not living up to my own standards for myself.
But that’s just human nature, right? We stick to our comfort zones. We are confined by it. We must be constantly reassured that what we’re doing is good, is right. We need to be able to think back on our actions at the end of the day and tell ourselves “yes, I am a good person, I have done this, this, and this, and I will continue doing these things tomorrow, the day after and for as long as I live.”
Maybe that’s just my nature. I can speak from my own perspective standing in my own little niche in a well-to-do, middle-income family living in a 4-bedroom house with enough money to provide for ourselves and afford the occasional luxury. Who am I to advocate for the rest of the world?
But for what it’s worth, I believe that all humans long for comfort, long for an identity they can accept, long to find their own comfortable little place in the world. I believe that we do this because we’re all lost and alone in the world, not sure who put us here and what we’re meant to do. Who we really are. At birth, we’re like empty vessels that need to be filled. But what to fill it with? That’s the question.
Do you believe? I believe.
