Dark
I was in a dark place this week. It means that any philosophical thought inevitably came back to the central question: Should I still be alive? And in a dark week like this, I can't answer the way Albert Camus would answer.
I don't want to go into details. But I am in a severe delusion about a certain member of the opposite. The way Don Quixote just declared a random farm girl to be his dear Dulcinea and pledged to move heaven and earth for her. Illusion. Utter illusion.
And then the Peter Pan diagnosis. Oh. The wonder boy avoid growing up. I have always been avoiding commitment. By saying "No" to everything, I can "keep options open". I am also stuck in Neverland, never get to do anything.
I went to the local second hand bookstore next to the library. I had been there before. I had no target purchases in mind.
A never-heard-before Lang Leav got my attention. I just randomly thumbed through this Sea of Strangers book...
There is one thing you should know about writing. It will inevitably lead you to dark places as you cannot write authentically about something unless you have lived it. However, you should always bear in mind that you are only a tourist and must always remain one. You were blessed with the gift of words, in order to bring a voice to suffering. But do not be too indulgent despite how addictive sadness can be, how easy it is to get lost down the path of self-destruction. You must emerge from adversity, scathed but victorious to tell your story and, in turn, light the way for others.
- Lang Leav
I was lost. And lonely. But message received. Or maybe a reminder. That's your life is largely a reflection of your internal state. So focusing on what's missing the recipe of an eventual disaster. Instead of wallowing and rotting in this self-pity, I need to stop. Think about what I get to learn, and what I intend to create instead.
What do I want to create?