To whomsoever it may concern, "It's funny how you spend half of your life trying to outgrow yourself, to be more than yesterday. It's funnier how I want to spend the rest of mine trying to outgrow myself, to be lesser than yesterday. To be less. Less." (Full piece in caption) To whomsoever it may concern, 4:14 AM. If you know me closely, you already know why I fixate on nights. I've been trying to doze off, been failing for the past 10 years. I'm the worst at "keeping in touch", people just end up assuming that I don't care. Truth be told, I actually don't but that's because I love solitude more than art. In fact, solitude is art. My problem is, assumption. I need facts. The first thing I notice in a person is intellect, empathy and compassion. At most, I could compromise on just one. I am tired of hearing that smoking kills; but in my reality, Intellectual Dissatisfaction kills. Being a Libra that I am, it was always about finding a balance between my left and right brain, about questioning my existence. Hilary Mantel asks, "Why does the act of writing generate so much anxiety?", I think Zapiz knows this better than the person sitting next to me. Considering this as a mid-life crisis, I have calculatively concluded that half of my life is there to chase the unattained. Mantel continues, "I used to think that autobiography was a form of weakness, and perhaps I still do. But I also think that, if you're weak, it's childish to pretend to be strong". It's funny how you spent half of your life trying to outgrow yourself, to be more than yesterday. It's funnier how I want to spend the rest of mine trying to outgrow myself, to be lesser than yesterday. To be less. Less.
