Surely, it is much later in life that we start questioning our existence. It is usually at a point one is nervously wrecked and in the midst of disparity and constant battles with each minute that passes. Perhaps too caught up in daily fiascos, one does tend to harden up, forgetting what it would be like to simply talk of the weather or enjoy sipping a cold soda while waiting for nothing. The issues in life take precedence and ultimately we land up complaining of always being too busy - not getting time for one’s own self.
Slowly and steadily we start becoming people we do not know. We fail to rectify our miseries, running too quickly, too far ahead to be able to look back. The skin getting thicker, the soul becoming more impatient; we resort to regular dejection. In search for anything that may be different, we start wanting to ‘find’ ourselves. Beginning to regret not doing what our parents once advised us to, we start blaming our mistakes on poor old providence.
Whilst waiting for some sort of divine intervention, we become the most intolerable psychopaths to roam the earth. Many that surround us may have felt pity at some point during our collapse - they no longer touch our shoulder the way they did once upon a time. They now turn a disgruntled look upon our invariable grievances.
For all the smart guru type people trying to instill patience into our systems, we do not understand their words of wisdom when stuck in a rut so hard to get away from. This is clearly a state of depression well known to those who undergo restlessness so profound. This is the downfall of many.
The moment we start questioning our existence should be an indication that spells an expected state of despair. There is much depth in life however, when in an active search for the deeper meaning, we tend to overlook reality.
Time to clean up - when listening to one’s mind becomes more important than listening to the heart.
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