Aren’t we just figuring out?
How things work. How emotions work. How we work.
Aren’t we just wanderers lost in this giant blue dot finding our next step, our purpose, our goals and ambitions?
I truly don’t know what I am doing. I don’t understand the meaning of anything anymore. But I do know I’m not doing any wrong to anyone, any harm to anyone.
I’m scattered in myself. Lost in myself. Troubled in myself. Yet, I sleep every night to wake another morning and repeat the same things over and over again.
Is it insanity? Mundanity? Sheer stupidity?
I love things I can’t have. I despise things I can’t get rid of. And I cherish things that never were.
Who are we supposed to be? Or are we even?