You read books, learn new stuff and try to understand life, science and how the universe works. You understand people. You get what a person really meant. You don’t get lost in the misunderstanding of the expression of words. Reading various authors, you kind of live their life. You become a character that impresses upon you, more relatable to you, more to being righteousness. You think about the welfare of society, people, plants, and every living and non-living thing. You sometimes talk to your book, cloud, moon, and material things hoping someday they will answer you directly.
I am a heliophile, He is selenophile, they are astrophile. You don’t divide people by their nature of being human. You try to make every being good on earth. Despite all these the existential crises inside you never fulfil your satisfaction. On the journey of the understanding universe, you get more attached to humanity. You feel too much! You feel the pain and suffer others’ sufferings. However, you just feel nice seeing someone happy, not being jealous still you don’t enjoy the happiness of others, it’s never enough. You always find pain somewhere in the corner to excuse yourself from feeling happy in others’ happiness. The state machine in you keeps changing states but you feel as if it stayed at the same place, then you doubt all your life choices and get miserable for yourself and your loved ones.
Where am I heading to? What this life is for? Why am I greedy for fame, money and infinite other things? Why? I never understand the depth of these questions. I don’t accept the ultimate truth. I rebel against the truth, nature, and everything that could have made me happier. My sincerity, gratitude and goodness don’t help either, it is never enough.
I know this body is made out of the dirt of sand which was fertilized enough to grow crops, and so, I exist. The earth has created me in some way to exist just from the stardust. The words may spoil the meaning of whatever I am trying to say, but my heart is good. The hatred towards the people who harms others, who never think about others’ circumstances of being hurt is so strongly emotional and sentimental. It makes me human but the hatred part impures my soul.
The problem with being a good person is that you never feel good enough yourself. Despite achieving the milestones in your career and helping the betterment of life of millions, the sense of underachievement always bothers you.
You cry hard for failing to reach a destiny despite being faultless at your end. You overburden yourself with everything that could or is going wrong. You forget that being wrong and uncertain is the way to learn new things. It is not the end of life nor the world. You become too hard, punishing emotionally and physically to yourself. A thought of “You are never good enough” makes your life worse.
Life is beautiful. Don’t forget to live it. Taste every bite as nature’s gift. There are things out of your control, you can’t solve all world’s problems. The achievement that you don’t count is worth a lot for millions directly or indirectly whether they acknowledge it or not.