Once again, I’m tired. However, this sense of tiredness stems from a project that sacrificed every bit of spare time I had to create. It’s funny, I’m burnt out yet yearn to write more. However, I lack topics to write about thanks to my current condition.
So instead, I’ll just treat this as a conversation with the person reading this, as a way to feel like I’m writing without going deep into an emotional or metaphorical concept.
Something that I have realized is that if you know ways to keep others in check yet have no urge to, it is better to not mention the idea in the first place. It is something that introduces doubt and suspicion– a poison that seeps into relationships. From there, it’s a matter of time before you suffer from the consequences of your loosened lips.
It is better to present your ideas with a layer of humor, allowing you to quickly backpedal if your idea is not a good idea or to use that layer of humor as a shield– granting yourself plausible deniability. If you always joke around with your ideas, you blur the line in which people can perceive whether you are joking or serious about a matter.
Non-verbal communication is underappreciated for me– as I have found that silence is a calming notion. It’s ironic how I wish to escape this silence yet am soothed by it. I’ve also found another reason for me writing.
I write because that is the only thing I know how to do in peace. This has become a compulsory habit for me as it abates my lack of social interaction. I’ve also realised that it is not others who are the problem. I am.
So far I’ve written over 20,000 words in order to counteract myself. With the project that I’ve been working on for three days being complete, it’s now jumped by 4,000 words. I’ve originally started that project out of boredom but have spent every waking second in those three days that was available for me to refine it as much as I could.
While I may have joked about that project, I am deathly serious about it for it is now an obligation that I must uphold to see it through to the end. I wonder, will anything actually occur from that work or must I be compelled once more to bear witness to the sight of injustice again. It is more realistic to assume the worst of man than it is to assume the best of them. To address anything, you must first look at the negative before you begin to see the positive.
I expect nothing from that work– for this work was to condemn and reform. I foresee that the words that I have cited are miraculously outdated with newer statutes in place or perhaps they claim that I’ve misinterpreted them. Yet, they have more to lose than I, as the only thing that I have is me. I hold no qualms about going to an arbiter.
Alright I’ve figured out my new source of inspiration. Since I have only seven months left before I graduate and already have plans on joining a student government, I might as well draft up mock proposals that could easily be altered to fit perfectly. Even if I don’t end up joining it, I might as well kill some time that way.
If alternative timelines existed, I’d probably have a different job in each one of them. In another life, I would choose to become a politician as I believe that I would be a great fit for it. I’d finally be able to fight on the behalf of my constituents and become a champion of the people.
I would act as an empty vessel, whose will is that of my people– their grievances are mine to bear and to solve. For there is no nobler obligation than to legislate for the liberties of man and endeavor to protect them– a fight that redeems my morality and sates my heart’s lust for conflict.
Yet in today’s world, I fear there is no place for me to be among others– let alone becoming their representative.
In another timeline, I would choose to become a lawyer– to uphold the very same laws that bind me and to enforce its execution upon others. I would move swiftly like a dagger– for while there may be battle, honour is snuffed out by the thick paper of bureaucracy.
Yet in today’s world, there is a clear advantage given to the nobility– what were once immutable laws have fallen so low that the touch of the common man may now change its spirit.
In another timeline, I would be a police officer– to assume the role of enforcer on the behalf of the executive. A role that drags others into the same system that birthed it. For my own goal to comfort the souls of the anguished ones– those who have lost.
Yet in today’s world, I would be serving with the corrupt and would be blinded by the red tape of politics.
By the time I have become qualified for such professions, I fear that the death knell of the laws would toll– thus making my aspirations irrelevant.
There is only the illusion of choice, for all of these choices are marked for ruin should I steel myself to pursue them once more.
Some time has passed since I wrote this, I take back the “source of inspiration” part. For I shall not limit myself, there is much for me to write about yet little time to materialize these writings.
Above all, my civic obligation has only begun– one that I sharpen my words for I see that I cannot expect others to follow the rules that they are bound to. I have found more for myself to write, thoughts that give rise to a passion that always remains out of reach.
I am a contradictory existence– my original intent being overwritten by this new intent.
These words are the entirety of my honesty– words that remain at odds against the identity that I possess in Society.
I am a stranger to both time and its people. For I arrived as a stranger and shall leave as a stranger– for my identity is not of myself but words that remain pure.
I pray that you find comfort among your people for I am my own– disconnected from a past, standing in a present nowhere, a future whose frigidness is already felt.**