Usually it takes about a month for the “I-can-take-on-the-world” feeling that I get from my India visits to wear off. This time it’s taken half a year, but it sucks none the less. I thought that this time the feeling would stick around, that somehow, I’d found a way to keep myself happy. Slowly though, I’m noticing how I feel that things just aren’t worth the effort, or that I’m not good enough anyway… or some other excuse.
I’m not sure of where my path in life lies, and where that feeling was liberating before, it has now been replaced with the feeling of a weight on my shoulders, like if I don’t figure it out soon, if I don’t find my meaning, goal or passion in life I’m just going to turn into a bitter housewife.
I was the happiest when I was barely at home. When I had plans. When I was so busy working, apprenticing, being involved in politics that I didn’t have the time to be at home. What does that say?
What am I now? I have no plans, I’m not involved, I’m not challenging myself. I’m nothing. If a person isn’t doing anything with their lives, if they’re not challenging themselves, learning something new… if they’re just drifting, what’s the point? Is that why people believe in god, because that means that there’s more to life? Maybe it gives them a goal by default?
Personally I don’t believe in an afterlife other than the nutrients my body will give to the earth to feed the flowers, trees and whatever other naturally wonderful thing mother earth consists of. No religion means that this one life I have, counts. It should be lived as the one chance I have to be whatever I want to be, whatever I can be, because this can’t be it.
Right now I’m just so afraid of failing, of being a looser, that I’m stunted. My fear is making me a drifter. The one thing I was so happy to no longer be.
Bitter kisses to all