From The Heart

I haven’t posted anything for over a month – a result of several factors, I guess. In terms of significance, the two main reasons would be that I spent three quarters of this time lying on a beach in Greece, and the fact that I didn’t really know what to write about. You see, I’ve been pretty busy, but not necessarily in the best way. Apart from my (not-so) little vacation, things have been slightly…tricky?

The saying “not everything will go according to plan” is a popular one, yet we don’t always fully acknowledge it every time we make those plans. In our mind, everything seems logical and perfect – you take the following steps to obtain the following results. But life is a messy, messy thing – for some more than others.

As far as I know, the majority of us have things we don’t wish to talk about, especially in detail, which is why we prefer to hide them from the world and build a much happier image of ourselves. However, this can be pretty detrimental since we end up feeling like only we are the ones who are going through some sort of mess, when in reality, very few people are as happy as they look in their Instagram pictures. Promise.

I’m less tolerant to discomfort; when things go wrong, I complain. No, it’s not because I’m ungrateful, but because I don’t think it’s necessary to try and hide normal human reactions. Listening to others’ advice can be good, but when my mum occasionally mentions that “things could be much worse” I can’t help but get slightly irritated. Following the logic, you should also consider that things could be much better, which is something I strive for. However, I also continue doing what I initially planned to do, since the universe is not about to wait for some 20-year-old female from a small country to sort her issues.

Life is hard, life is messy, and life loves to fuck you over sometimes. And the funniest part is that, until we die and see (or not) what the last several decades have been all about, we will never know why some individuals tend to get luckier, and some don’t. In my culture, it is a social sin to refer to yourself as “unlucky”, since there are always people who have it way worse. Also, many people are scared to refer to themselves as such, mainly because they think they will genuinely become unlucky.

If luck could be measured on a scale, I honestly don’t know where I would place myself. Since this is purely subjective, I don’t know whether it is an accurate assessment of the current state of affairs. I know that one’s quality of life depends on how much effort they put in, and I know for a fact that I put in a lot of effort. But there are also a lot of things that keep going sideways: from work, to health, to people, to general little unpleasant surprises. Don’t get me wrong – I’m very far from depressed, since I’ve got a lot to appreciate and a lot to look forward to. Not depressed or sad, just slightly tired. In fact, the problems I mentioned above are somewhat manageable; they just require dedication and patience. I guess I’m in the process of accepting that everything is always much more picturesque in our head; we see an empty highway instead of what is actually there – a long, winded maze.

maze-2264

I Know That I Don’t

Most people come to a point in their lives where they are no longer sure of who they are, what they want and what the future holds. I like to refer to it as the 20-something crisis; a more optimistic version of the mid-life crisis, during which people seem to forget “how to life” for a period of time. In spite of the fact that being unsure is a perfectly natural state of mind, our society is very unforgiving towards those who express reasonable doubt.

Not knowing what to do is somehow unacceptable in the 21st century. I mean, how can one NOT KNOW what they are striving towards? So many resources! So much support! So much good (although standardized) education! So when successful stockbroker Jordan’s teenage daughter comes home from school one day and says “Dad, I’m not sure what I want to study at college”, it is likely that she will receive the following answer: “Don’t be silly honey, you’ve always wanted to study finance!” (cheers to anyone who got the reference)

However, doubting earlier ideas is definitely not silly – it’s a sign of a healthy rational thought process. The problem lies in how we see the concept of knowledge itself, and how that affects the way in which we perceive the sentence “I don’t know”. Theoretically, knowledge is a very factual concept, based on information which can be tested for validity. We know that the earth revolves around the sun; that a year has 365 days; that plants photosynthesize and so on. So when we are unaware of certain facts, we perceive it as a gap in our knowledge.

But here’s the problem – not all knowledge is factual and unchanging (not to mention that “facts” often change throughout the years themselves). So what we think we “know” concerning who we are, what we want and what the future holds is, in fact, a vague idea. It’s okay to “not know”, because you never really knew in the first place anyway.

pieces-of-the-puzzle-592798_1280

On The Peculiarity of Life

I didn’t expect to be gone for over ten days, but I also didn’t expect things many things. The last couple of weeks have been busy, messy and full of surprises. Suddenly there were so many things to do/sort; from work, to medical, to personal – which always happens before I go to Greece for some reason. I’m also required to drink this tiny pill for a few months, which is pretty light in general but occasionally causes the annoying side-effect of insomnia. Guess who got lucky.

Anyway, all of this chaos got me thinking about how weird life can get. When you really think into things, life starts to seem like one big trip. No, seriously. You’re born pretty much by chance, and then spend the rest of your years feeling like you’re the center of the universe before your body shuts down one day and hell knows what happens next. But while you’re still alive, you experience things in a very particular way, and automatically assume that others must be feeling life the same way. But when you think about it, they don’t.

See, this is the part that really gets me. Because you’re YOU, everything you see/touch/smell/hear/taste is filtered through your own personal prism of how you experience things. And that’s why we automatically assume that everyone probably has the same general feelings towards the concept of life. But it’s not like that in reality.

Before you think I’m on some kind of drug (God, I love G-Eazy references), I do not condone substance abuse, so I’m really not about the stoner life. It’s just something that’s been on my mind lately, and as much as I’m keeping this blog more “serious” than my last, you are going to get some trippy philosophical posts from time to time.

6

A Couple of Words on Words

Although I promised this blog would be less personal, I feel like I have to start with some grand opening. A new blog is like a new year; it brings expectations, inspiration and is always better with a bottle of wine/champagne/cranberry vodka. Since I’m currently on medication (again), the last one is off limits. However, I’m still going to give my new project the flashy opening it deserves.

Many people don’t understand the purpose of blog – especially if it’s not monetized (but hey, who knows what the future holds). I mean, what’s the point of just writing about things? After all, there are professional writers and journalists out there who hold the responsibility of transferring information via words and obtaining a significant sum of money in return. For some bloggers, writing is a fun hobby on the side, but for me – it’s a necessity.

For me, it’s not just about blogging, but about writing in general. Ever since I can remember, I’ve loved to both read things and create things to be read. I’m not talking about teenage years, oh no. When I say “ever since I can remember”, I literally mean ever since I can remember – probably around eight or nine. As I got older, I began to read more “serious” books, keep proper journals instead of random tiny notebooks and even start random blogs from time to time. I also began to put extra effort into all of my essays simply because it was fun for me.

Two years ago, when I turned eighteen, I decided to open a WordPress blog. This time I didn’t get tired of it, and wrote regular posts for nearly two years. Someday I might link it here if I feel like sharing all of that personal content. During this time, I also started to make money by establishing myself as a freelance writer, taking on a wide range of orders; from essays, to product descriptions, to marketing texts and scripts for start-ups. Not only was I receiving cash for it, but I was genuinely enjoying the writing process.

Fast forward to now, when I’m at the somewhat unstable and chaotic age of twenty. I say unstable because at this age – at least for the majority – people are often confused. My head is constantly filled with questions, such as

  • What do I want to be when I graduate university next year?
  • Do I want a gap year or go straight to masters?
  • Where do I want to live?
  • What internship do I want?
  • What kind of people do I want to be friends with?
  • What qualities do I want in a partner?
  • Do I even want a partner?
  • What if I don’t want to date anyone but being single is boring?
  • Should I just marry a millionaire?
  • Billionaire?
  • What gym do I want to go to?
  • Should I fix my guitar or am I not interested in playing anymore?
  • How can I make more money with minimal effort?
  • What is the meaning of life?
  • Are tomatoes a vegetable or a fruit?

In spite of so much indecisiveness, the thing that has solidly remained with my throughout these years is my love for writing. It calms me down, gives me a purpose and even allows me to educate others from time to time. Writing is fun too, and you learn a lot about yourself based on the topics you decide to write about. Looking back on my old journal entries and even my own blog posts, I can see what things have changed and what has stayed the same. Overall, writing is great, and I can’t imagine ever not doing it in one form or another. That’s probably why I’m sat here, typing the second post of my second blog, wondering how many more things like this I’m going to do in my life.

1