Thunderous Thirty

How do you measure progress in your life? Do you measure them through your bank accounts? Numbers of Facebook friends? Twitter followers? Milestones ticked at the right pace, right moment? Do you track them at all? Do you live from moment to moment, goal to goal, dream to dream? 

What is the meaning of life? 

I really don’t know. This guy seems to know what’s up. I recommend you read the piece and have a think. Or two. Or go back to your plans and goals and pre-molded conception. I know I probably did. 

So I read the piece.  3 days before my thirtieth birthday. How poignant. 

But yes. The meaning of life. What is the meaning of it all. This is the question of all time. Ever the curious kid, I probably had my midlife crisis since I was 12. “I don’t get why I need to eat vegetable. We’re all going to die anyway. What’s the meaning of it aallll”. Read Sophie’s world around that age too. Completely utterly lost but felt a little proud for enduring that thick a block of a book full of words strung together without producing any meaning more than if they were poured into a bowl and mixed wholeheartedly with a literary blender. Yes. I understood the separate words, but what. did. it. all. mean. It’s almost like being invited into a secret society without ever being let on what’s the secret is all about. Nonetheless, curiosity further piqued, world became a true oyster. Life became a one big giant experiment. 

That would probably summed up my twenties. One big giant ass experiment.

Though lots of it are probably residing in my head only.

Cause once you open the door, how are you able to stop? Thought process study number 1. “What a lovely day. What a beautiful tram ride back to the house. Oh how great it is. To live. To experience. Wait. Why everybody looks sad? All these humans. Don’t they know how lucky we are? We have brains! We can do things! Isn’t it great how our creator designed us to function the way we do. -Tangent to bodily function that boggles the mind. Such as how humans are organic machines with each parts talking to each other, controlled by a brain that was once a tiny puny pea inside another human being. If that doesn’t boggle the mind. I don’t know what.- Back to humanity. We all are going to die! Why be sad? This is all a game! Let’s sing! Let’s dance. Let’s talk to one another and stop looking like miserable sobs.” But of course I don’t dance. I don’t sing. And I probably look like one of the miserable sobs annoyed by the addicts throwing up at the back at the tram. And then enter though process number 2. “Such a developed country and there’s still so many people whose situations are so bad they have to escape it through heroin or etc. And then went into follow up thought process of whether a utopia where everyone is happy and content could ever be achieved and into a more practical one of what the government and people like you and me on a tram interacting with them could do. On a daily basis.”

But this year is feeling special already. I haven’t really realised how much I changed, progressed or moved along until I met people from the past. I realised that my way of thinking toward them and toward the world has progressed from the last time I saw them. Progressing to the better? Or worse? Who knows. Who cares. But things change. People change. The world change.

Daunting. Yes. 

But you can always build a corner at the very world wherever you are, wherever you go and bring a little bit of yourself with it. Contribute, be present, be there. You are where you need to be. And that is the only meaning as far as I care. 

Peace out. 

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About inifeli

Sketch a lot, write a lot, read a lot. Live a lot.

Well, I'd say....

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