Forest of Thoughts

In this ruthless world, I do not remember anyone ever asking me what I was doing, what am I doing, or what will I be doing. Now, I am sitting in the darkness in a forest, watching stars showing their glorious beauty while pitying us, the evil creatures, for what have we become. Then I wonder how did we come to this point where people no longer have the will to move on, live. Nature does not have these kinds of dilemmas; if you are weak, you die. It is just that simple. There are no games, cheating, or injustices. Yet, we continue playing our tiny parts in life while trying to keep up with the heavy burden on us.

If I do not want this system, this way that people live, these small roles we have to stay in, these dreams we have to imagine while not being able to color outside the lines, is it fair to me to deal with them? Why can’t I just stay here, smell the fresh scent of the ground after rain, keep dreaming whatever I want, not go to daily chaos? But I know this is not possible. One way or the other, I have to join the crowd and do what they do. However, I know that I would not be happy. People say no good comes without pain. Is it really the true path to joy, or are they trying to deny the fact that it shouldn’t be this hard?

One of the most annoying things that anger me is the reality that we cannot choose whether to come to this world or not. I am sure most people would not want to live in this messed-up world. As I grew older, I began to acknowledge the rules and realize that I did not have any power to change the system. Because there is always a block that keeps me in their boundaries like labyrinths, the moment I think I find a way, a big thick wall appears in front of me to crush my hopes. However, some people still try to do something about this system. I admire the people who have great hopes for the future. Yet, sometimes it feels like they are fooling themselves. Maybe I am the one who is fooling herself. Still, no one can deny that there is an order, and most of the time, we cannot get out of it.

Every so often, I wonder what I am. But, sadly, I am not quite complete. Looking to the past makes me worried because there were many possibilities to become another person, maybe a complete one with ideal dreams. However, here I am, dreaming non-stop on a dull weekend, killing time, waiting unwillingly to go to work. It is me. Even though it is not pleasant, it is me. There is always an emptiness consuming me about the future. It is depressing that I am not the person I wanted to be. But I do not have any intention to stop and cry. I should and definitely will move on, somehow. Sadly, the system is cruel. Yet, I can be small in it, my way of small…

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