i wonder if i do it all by myself
make my life harder than it needs to be
make it more confusing
more complicated
and yet, all the more pointless
i find no joy in the things that used to make me happy
while i find no joy in new things either
and so no joy is found
perhaps the person in charge of the treasure hunt for my happiness overestimated me, and hid my happiness in the stars
or perhaps they got distracted by the stars, and forgot to hide my happiness anywhere at all
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My dreams died as well, I had to bury them and wonder through life without ambition.
The thing about dreams is that it is its nature to dream
The thing about searching is that it is its nature to search
A dream lost would not be remembered?
A search found would no longer be a search?
If we always dreaming and always searching would we notice if we arrived?
I love to dream and I love to search but now I wonder if I do so to keep me safe, that the dreaming and the searching has become my crutch and left me blinded…
I am reminded of the story of the man sitting on the roof of his house after a flood praying to God for rescue and turning away those that come for him in regular boats because his desire is for a miraculous recue and so he remains stuck.
Does such a man really want to be rescued? Or perhaps he can only accept rescued if he can be assured that “something†exists that will intervene on his behalf and take care of him, perhaps give his life meaning. In a world without that kind of certainty he would rather die.
I think I have been sitting on a roof for so long that I wouldn’t know how (or it terrifies me) to be anywhere else.
Wow, that’s really profound!