"You’ll need coffee shops and sunsets and road trips. Airplanes and passports and new songs and old songs, but people more than anything else. You will need other people and you will need to be that other person to someone else, a living breathing screaming invitation to believe better things."
“The truth is, I want to feel my pain. I want to feel the sadness and the near-burning nostalgia of leaving a place and a people I love, because it deserves it. Everything beautiful that we experience in life, when it suffers or comes to an end, is going to be filled with this kind of aching sorrow. But that is a good thing, because it means that it had significance in your life, that it cannot be easily dismissed like so many other things you let roll off your back. To be sad when the end comes is to pay homage to everything that was great, to all that it gave you, to who you are because of it. And yes, it is “weak” to cry and write letters and talk about your sadness. It is “weak” to rest your head on someone’s chest and welcome being consoled. It is “weak” to focus, at least temporarily, on the pain you feel.But it is also wonderful. It is a moment in which you feel alive, human, and fully connected to the things that you touch in life. There are few moments where we lose or change or move on from something great, and those moments do make us weak. To be strong and silent in the face of them — to deny that they have touched you and will leave a great absence in your life — is to dismiss its importance. You may find yourself needing the support of friends and family, to be reassured and have your hand held. You may need to be reminded of what is good, and that the pain will subside. You may need to lean on someone. And that’s okay.”
— Chelsea Fagan
I learned that nobody really cares about what you think, or feel. Sure, people may get bothered or get interested on it for a while, but in the course of time, you are always left to figure things out, by yourself.
People will always, in the end, care only about themselves.
We are all nomads in this life.
I walked a lot today.
I know it sounds weird but… I know that walking had an added benefit to shake these things plaguing my mind. It helped me think as well. Nietzsche write, “All truly great thoughts are conceived while walking,” and his observation is backed up by science; exercise induced brain chemicals help people think clearly. In fact, just stepping outside clarifies thinking and boosts energy!!!
Many times, I’d guiltily leave my desk to take a break, and while I was walking around the block, I’d get some useful insight that had eluded me when I was being virtuously diligent.
I hope you are happy today too!
What if i quit, right here, right now?
What if I explore a different way to live life?
I had a loose plan of how I wanted to spend my time, but the main reason I want to leave was that I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t put it into words, but something inside of me was telling me I shouldn’t continue down the career path I was on. I felt strongly that it wasn’t getting me closer to where I wanted to be, though that destination was largely unknown, and I had to get off that road.
Every passing month that I stayed here, I am growing more anxious and, in turn, resentful. I could wait until I knew exactly which exit I was supposed to take, but I knew it would be harder to turn around as time went on, and what if I never knew which exit was right? The only thing of which I was certain was that no one was going to tell me how to get there;
not my manager, not my co workers, not my friends, not my parents.
BUT IT IS JUST SO COMPLICATED
It persisted as a riddle. Sometimes i’d think it must have been all a delusion, from start to finish a fantasy I cooked up in my head. Or maybe a very long realistic dream that somehow I’d mixed up with reality. But it did happen.
I woke up in a sunny afternoon, just past lunch. Opened the gates, and crossed the 6-meter carriageway. Across the street stood a picket fence, where you can see a vacant lot on the other side. In there a tree stood, and a hammock clings with sheer confidence, slowly swaying to the November breeze.From the top of this hill you can see the lakeshore, and the MagLev highway farther north.
“I really like you, Firefly. A lot. You know that already, right?”
“Yes. How much is a lot?”
“Like a spring bear,” I said.
“A spring bear?” Firefly looked up again. “What’s that all about? A spring bear.”
“You’re walking through a field all by yourself one day in spring, and this sweet little bear cub with velvet fur and shiny little eyes comes walking along. And he says to you, “Hi, there, little lady. Want to tumble with me?’ So you and the bear cub spend the whole day in each other’s arms, tumbling down this clover-covered hill. Nice, huh?”
“Yeah. Really nice.”
“That’s how much I like you. Maybe more, but not less.”
"But you know I kind of miss those days when we’re still getting to know each other."
"What do you mean?"
"You know, those days when I think you are still interested enough in me to peel out my every layer."
"But I still do! Why are you talking like that?"
"I don’t know. I just feel that there will really come a time when people get used to each other’s presence so much that they start to get bored — then things change."
"But i will not get bored. You’re just overthinking."
"I hope I am! See, this thing that I have, overthinking, can really do so much damage."
"Hey stop it."
“I have a million things to talk to you about. All I want in this world is you. I want to see you and talk. And it would really mean so much if you will tell me the things that you feel. It makes me feel much closer even if we’ll be far apart.”
"You are one clingy person."
“I guess so. I know I’m doing some terrible things to you, making demands and not giving you anything in return, saying whatever pops into my head, dragging you out and forcing you to go somewhere, but you’re the only one I can do stuff like that to! I’ve never been able to have my own way with anybody, not once in the years I’ve been alive. My father, my mother, they never paid the slightest attention to me, and my friends, well, most of them are just not that kind of people. You’re the only one I can say these things to. And now I’m really, really, really tired and I want to fall asleep listening to someone tell me how they feel and how their day went on and stuff. That’s all I want. And when I wake up, I’ll be full of energy and I’ll never make these kinds of selfish demands again.”
“Say, how much did you miss me?’
"Enough to melt all the tigers in the world to butter,’ I said.”
Well to elaborate things more, I miss you terribly sometimes, but in general I go on living with all the energy I can muster. Just as you take care of the birds and the fields every morning, every morning I wind my own spring. I give it some 36 good twists by the time I’ve got up, brushed my teeth, shaved, eaten breakfast, changed my clothes, left the for work and arrived at the office. I tell myself, “OK, let’s make this day another good one.” I hadn’t noticed before, but they tell me I talk to myself a lot these days. Probably mumbling to myself while I wind my spring.