Aren’t you feeling anxious, now that you’ve crossed 30?, my twin sister asked. Anxious about what? Don’t you feel life is running too fast and you don’t know if you will be able to do all those things you dreamed of? I never had many dreams or expectations in the first place, I replied.
This is an easy statement. It sounds like I’m taking an easy route for a living. It sounds like an escape. It’s succumbing more than enduring. Success and failure are mere bodies, minus the soul, in these transitory moments. I’m still looking for answers to the most basic questions. What do I like? What makes me happy? Is success rated by weighing your high vs low moments? Like a see-saw, except, when one entity starts weighing more than the other the fun is all gone.
I’ve become too boring and philosophical over the years. I can’t believe I just wrote an entire paragraph defending my laziness. This is what happens when the mind contradicts the heart. What am I trying to say here? Nothing but the usual, which is always incomplete.