My life, as it is now, is made of moments.
Moments of happiness. Moments of excitement. Moments of wonder. Some moments of wistfulness and confusion. Moments of joy. Many moments of dancing.
Right now, there are only those precious moments. No big picture, no plan for the next one; just one moment here and other one there. I pick up my phone and, quite often, browse my calendar filled it up with my moments, unconnected with each other. I get delighted: ah, there is a perfect spot for one more. If not for the calendar, would my life be completely unorganized? Or empty? Or dictated by routine?
At this age, they say, you should have a plan, should have a house loan, should know what you’ll become when old(er?), should walk into a certain direction, should settle down. Shouldn’t build your life barely on some random moments. But what if those moments make me feel alive? And what if I don’t feel like settling down? And who are they anyway?!
So many things I want to do, see, experiment, learn! So many people to encounter, get to know, listen! So many moments to create, live though, get surprised with!
Oh, you are one of those overdoers.
Am I?
Am I?
I wake up every night without a reason. In the morning I feel so musty, like I was out partying late, and need to take a long shower to wash that feeling away. Hot and cold repeatedly into my skin. I conscientiously strive for an early bedtime; yet the same repeats every time. Does this mean something isn’t right?
What, then, isn’t right?
I should dance more to find it out.
