When I was a kid, I used to have a diary. The feeling of scribbling my thoughts on paper, leaving them there so I could return to it later and experience them again, perhaps even in a new light, was amazing. However, as I grew older, I became interested in other things and began neglecting the book. A couple years ago I moved into the digital world, leaving my good old friend behind, on a dusted shelf. Here I am, roughly a year and a half having passed since my last entry in my diary.
What was I up to? Have I changed? Did something important happen to my life? In short: yes.
But who cares? I know I don’t. What matters is the now. This very moment. I am sitting on my balcony, headset hugging my ears, letting waves of music enter my mind and settle there cozily. Music creates spasms of emotions, these smooth hands that gently touch my soul and shape my mood. That’s what matters. You don’t have to be standing in the back of a truck driving through a tunnel while listening to David Bowie to feel infinite. Sometimes the river inside you simply runs to the perfect place itself.
There are things I can and probably should be sad about. Not being who I want to be. Not making others as happy as they deserve. Not believing in shit. Not letting myself be free.
But there are also things I can and should be happy about. Being who I am, and being where I am now. Being able to experience this amazing palette of feelings, even though I can never fully understand and express them. But it doesn’t matter. I am swimming in the silent, dimly lit grotto of my soul, only beginning to explore its depths and edges. I’ve just entered it, and there’s still a lot to discover. But to do so, you’ve got to forget about everything and just dive. You’ve got to start loving yourself.
I was always a bit scared of diving. Some dive so deep in their own grotto that they forget to set their feet in other people’s minds. They don’t want to dive elsewhere. I don’t want to be like that. I want to swim the seas of other humans. I am well aware that I am only a drop in the ocean, but what is any ocean, but a multitude of drops? I want to be a drop in this mind-bogglingly vast ocean. To find other drops and move on with them. To learn to love. To form a stream of my own and to approach whatever awaits me. Something holds me back, but these shackles will eventually fall.
Do you know this feeling – the feeling of gazing into the uncertain fog of the future and knowing, perhaps only for a brief moment, that everything will turn out fine? The goosebumps of anticipation, the warm vibration in your bones? This loving caress from the dark of the unknown? I think that’s what they call hope. I am young and full of hopes.
Life is a one big road trip. That’s how I feel about life. I know that some people are not like me. In fact, some people may never even get the mere chance to think about life like that. I was born a dreamer, however. Hopes and dreams play the strings of my soul and fill me with love. Love for everything. In moments like these, like now, I know how to love. Love envelopes me just like stars envelop you when you stare into the night sky long enough to let its endlessness sink in. I love this road trip, even though it may eventually take me somewhere where it will not be perfect at all. I am ready to go. I want to dissolve and then to take a shape again, to be molded and formed over and over again, until my true self, my solid self, emerges.
I want to feel alive. To touch life, to smell and taste it. To live out my wildest fantasies and find myself at places I never thought were real. To go with the ever-buzzing, ever-cheering flow of people at certain times and to sometimes only watch them from a safe distance. To give birth to mighty ideas and thoughts, but to also enjoy the little things in life, like touching the cheek of a loved one and watching how a warm smile wrinkles up their nose. To look back and know for a fact that all was worth it and had a purpose – and that the purpose is this very moment. This is what I want from life, and this is what I call being alive. To feel the moment thoroughly, to love yourself and the world around you and to know that everything that happened turned out alright.
I’m letting my thoughts flow freely tonight. A person inspired me to try this and it feels sweet. It may not make sense, but it’s my now; I’m living in the moment. And that’s what should matter.