With another birthday approaching faster than I can keep track of time, I have not been blind to how I have changed concerning my place in this world. Once believing myself on the journey towards an invisible greatness, I now understand I am but a conduit for something even I cannot fully explain. And by no means do I mean this in the mystical sense. I cannot claim my purpose, perhaps, except for writing these words. It is the only time anything makes sense to me. I find myself at this desk but also soaring in the sky, looking at the big picture—of how everyone needs everyone. You might call it resignation, but I have realised that I am but a cog in this wildly incredible machinery. So many things are far out of my reach, but I can still affect them; so long as I keep this up, my life has meaning. So many lives get affected by the simple act of reading a sentence, and it is in these words I attempt to cause a quiet revolution—one of kindness and understanding.
I am fully aware of the possibility that these words never get read or that I stop writing them five years from now. But regardless, the words I have written will remain, and all the people they reached would have changed with them. So many people I have met and changed as I am by writing these words, so many lives I have touched, some softly, like how you’d play with a touch-me-not before it closes. So many people I had but a momentary slice of time to laugh with, and yet, it was enough.
I do not know what lies ahead for me, but I am sure time has things in store for all of us, forging us into whatever we become. But I would be lying if I said it was not glorious to simply be alive. Why must we strive for unknown zeniths when merely sitting on the grass makes us feel a vital part of this giant experiment? There cannot only be heroes and villains. There must be those who watch them and tell their tales. I believe I fall somewhere in the cracks. I do not have tales to tell yet, but I do have something to say.
In this reflective stupor of late morning, I sip my coffee as I write these words and smile. How wonderful it is to feel so strongly your hands begin writing before you even have a chance to think.