Life without purpose

Living like a blade of grass blown by the wind is not doing my sanity any favors. I miss feeling driven and called to do something! I feel like the goals people are setting up for themselves are not attractive enough for me to pursue; that dreadful thought that life is not worth living.

I want to find something interesting enough for me to…live for.

For a short while it was love, and I felt like it could be my true calling. You know, loving someone wholly and unconditionally is hard work! But looks like I’ll spend my life on the unrequited side of the story, or maybe have it end tragically for me because, well, I’m me!

For some time in the past I thought it could be science. However, as interesting as science may sound, I am not spending my life on it! At least not my twenties.

For a more recent period, it was writing and literature. I honestly think literature’s one of the most interesting things in my life right now. Even so, it still gets incredibly dull in the moments I feel like having human interaction with people who don’t belong to “authors who died a hundred years ago” or “those who live 10000 miles away” categories of human beings. It’s difficult.

For the people around me, it’s a career. It’s starting to feel extremely eerie to me how most of my acquaintances say “You’ll amount to something very big in the future,” in some way or another. Now I know how it may be said about lots of things, but most of the ones I talked with seem to think I’ll be either a world-famous writer or a very successful businesswoman someday. Sometimes I like to laugh at their rosy expectations when I’m most desperate about myself…

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