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Aug 31, 2024
3 min read

Where to Now?

A journey stopped in its tracks.

I'm like a fish out of water

I had everything.

At least I thought so.

One day, I cast it all away into oblivion. The path I had been treading was fabricated. It bored and exhausted me to no end.

I had put my head down and ground away from morning ‘till dusk.

All for the prospect of winning the privilege of living life on my own terms.

You wouldn’t think twice about pushing the boulder uphill when the stakes were that high. You simply had to do it.

Then one day, a torrent of bliss and comfort inundated my previously tiresome and sacrificial life.

My brain got stuck in a limbo state.

”Did it really happen?”
“Am I dreaming?”
“Have I made it?”

Life started to feel slow, yet it passed by in an instant.

It passed by faster than ever. Just when I reached out to grasp that moment, it disintegrated.

Life became tasteless.

Its bittersweetness diluted by overindulgence in the byproducts of comfort.

Life turned from “worth fighting for” to “good enough to merely exist.”

That tremendous innate energy that drove me to new heights? Wiped out.

In its place, a void of comfort.

That’s where the concept of journeys doesn’t exist at all. That’s the only place from which you never hear any stories.

It’s the only place where the soul stagnates like a river that has lost its flow.

I thought I had gained the privilege of tomorrow, without realizing I had lost the reason why I fought for tomorrow.

I knew I’d wake up in a cozy bed. I knew my belly wouldn’t growl anymore. I knew my heart wouldn’t race with anxiety at hearing shouts and screams.

But it’s because I knew that wouldn’t be the case anymore that I simply… stopped.

You may stop, but the march of time? Never.

It’s the classic “damned if you do, damned if you don’t.”

If life is a game, then it must be an awful one because there are no “Save” and “New Game” options.

Once you hit “Exit,” that’s it.

Frankly, I know. Nevertheless, a part of me still doesn’t buy it.

So much has my body grown accustomed to it.

Not the soul, though. It’ll scream and rage and groan and whisper:

“More. Much more. More of life. More of whatever is to come next. Our unwritten chapters—I want to experience them all.”

I’m scared because I don’t know exactly where I’m heading.

For the first time in my life, I have the freedom I so desperately fought for.

On what new avenues will this take me? Damned if I know.

Whether it’s shipping more failing products, exposing my awkward personality to the world, or sharing my two neurons—I’ll do it all.

Because I was born into this world.