I find myself always looking. For what, I’m not entirely sure, but I’m constantly searching. Maybe for happiness. Or acceptance. Love. A niche, perhaps. A utopian life.
I should be grateful for what I have. But when I think I am, my eyes wander. My mind roams to other possibilities.
“What if I did this…”
“What would happen if I did that…”
I’m constantly searching for something that I’m not sure is even attainable. And yet, I still dream.
I dream of a world where there is no poverty, no war, no hatred.
I dream of a life that I love to be a part of.
I dream of doing something truly inspirational with my life.
I dream of making change – of being change.
It’s constant, this feeling. The searching is endless. It’s a tiring process, but I can’t bring myself to stop. I can’t bear it – believing that this is it. This is what we’re all living for.
What are we doing?
Why are we here?
Why is there so much unhappiness?
I find myself constantly thinking, wishing, believing that we are more than what we actually are.
But what are we, actually?
I’m constantly dreaming, and I can’t bear to stop.