brb writing a 750 word narrative about the death of my brother because for some reason that has to do with my application for studying in LA. makes perfect sense!
Once I didn’t really care about anything. I asked a few people I knew what the point of life was. All of their answers were a little different and all of them a little lacking.
I didn’t feel like I fit in with my surroundings. My thoughts and ideas didn’t match up with the expectations of everyone else, and it made me lose interest.
I tricked the world for a bit into believing I was interested, and I actually did start to care. I said hello to a lot of people. I said hello countless times. A slightly askew universe aligned in a way I didn’t know was possible and after I got used to it I fell in love. I made myself a part of something bigger than I’ll ever be. But, I chose to make myself a part of something that ends.
Now that I have to say goodbye I don’t know if I care anymore. Everything I have to look forward to I don’t. All of the possibilities seem horrible, and lonely, and uninteresting.
I stopped asking what the point of living was because I was wrapped up in the captivating, distracting beauty of belonging somewhere. Now that I’m finding clarity again, I find myself asking old questions with no answers. I never realized how uninteresting my own dreams could become.