I finished my last post, but I kept thinking. There’s more I want to add and I was starting to edit the post, but I figured it’s best that I keep them separate. I need to stop trying to change what I’ve said and instead focus on what I will say in the future.
Sometimes I wonder why I even bother. Why do I keep going? I don’t want to give up, either. I don’t want to stagnate or worse, go backwards. I’d rather die than slide backwards. I’m fairly certain part of me would die at the very least. There’s one person who is the biggest killer of motivation in my life and I see her everyday in the mirror. My worst enemy is myself.
My words are my life and I keep trying to shut them up. I’m killing myself this way…metaphorically. I’m not suicidal anymore. I used to be when I was very young, but before I could do the deed, I became afraid. I thought of the blue, blue sky and the smell of grass as I rolled around in it and I just couldn’t. I couldn’t bring myself to leave this beautiful world. Everyone else might hate me. They might look down on me, but this earth never did. This earth is innocent, giving as much as it takes. That felt like more than anyone ever did for me so I couldn’t leave. I didn’t leave.
Now, years later, all I need to think of is the sun peeking through the bright green leaves and the graceful arch of tree branches
I think of all I’ve experienced, like the rush of the air when you dive off a cliff and the shock you feel when you hit the cold water. I think of lazy summer days eating all the frozen yogurt. I think of warm afternoons walking to the grocery store and the tall trees that line the path, vivid spring or autumn colors adorning the leaves. I think of the breeze blowing through my hair.
I think of the warm nights and afternoons where you eat outside with others. I think of cold nights out where I sat outside my apartment with one of my best friends, chatting as we painted our nails. I think of sitting around a circular table with my family, eating the spicy Sichuan food. I think of the night, looking up at the shining stars and beaming moon and ignoring the bite of the cold winter. I think of all these things and I want to experience them more.
I want more of this. If that makes me greedy, then so be it. I’d rather be greedy for the right things than things like money or fame.
I want to be happy. I want to be happy everyday no matter what. I really, really want to try.
I’m not the only one right?