I just turned twenty one yesterday.
The day just passed just like any other day for I just couldn’t find any reason for celebration. I am grateful, though, that I have made it again for another 365 days. Many good things have happened this year but I feel like I am still missing one thing. The only problem is that no matter how hard I try to search myself for that “one thing,” I always end up frustrated.
That, I think, is the reason why I am still being bothered by depression at random times, making me do stupid things like sudden job resignation, sudden impulse to buy a book I won’t read, sudden detours to a coffee shop instead of coming to work, as well as sudden mood-swings which often lead to petty fights with my best friend.
Sometimes, it really scares me to think that there’s something within me I can’t explain. I don’t even know if it’s a yearning or a nature of me yet to come out, because the fact that I can’t even understand myself leads me to believe, more and more, that something is wrong.
I don’t know. I don’t really know if you will ask me. I don’t know why I am here. I don’t what led me to this place. I don’t know where I am going to. Everything seemed to have happened so suddenly. I know that all these things is just the outcome of all the choices I made in life, but I have already lost track of many things because of my dimming memory.
As a result, I am still not really sure about anything. This is also one of the reason why I find it difficult to write at times. I feel like caught up in vast maze chasing for something I cannot even see. So I am just simply trying to make sense out of all the things life is presenting to me.
I am afraid that time will come that I completely will not now. That is why I need to keep writing, so that life will accumulate, than just merely pass.