Satisfaction, that's the word. I have exhausted it to the point that I had more than enough, and was definitely ready to do the next thing. I was restless. I wanted to do different things. Things I have never done before. I did try a lot of things, I just did not stick to any of them long enough. Take for example, blogging. I tried blogging so many times and most of the time I just did not stick with it long enough. It surprises me that I am doing this again this time around, but I'd like to stick around this time. Not sure what is different this time around - only my desire to stick around has been printed in public.
This blog is a very personal blog. Ok, maybe not that personal, but as personal as I am willing to get on a public domain. Over the years, I wrote pages and pages, or more like books and books of diaries and journals that are now sitting in a box collecting dust. Literally. I just want to burn all of them now. No, it is not a storage issue, I do have space to keep them. I just never read them and I do not want to read them right now. Not sure if I ever want to read them ever. Because I think the things that I want to remember I would store in my memory bank. The ones that I do not wish to remember should remain exactly that: not remembered. So what is the point of keeping those writing? I don't know. If I die, I bet they will get burned. I may as well be the one burning them right now. The goal of writing at that point in time was achieved - that is to provide relief from all the craziness of my life. The result was good because I am still sane till this day (although this is apparently debatable). The other result, the stacks of books, well, I am not sure what purpose they currently serve.
The question that I constantly change my answer to is whether I would be comfortable if anyone reads my diaries. The answer (right now) is that I don't care if anyone wants to read them. They would get uncomfortable, of course, some may even take it personally - because most people in this planet are not comfortable with raw honesty. The truth hurts. So if you are not prepared, then don't go searching for the truth. If you are searching for the truth and you find it, then be prepared for all of the possible consequences attached to it. Prepare for the worst, hope for the best. Of course if you get to read them, you would find out bits and pieces about me. But trust me, that is only a glimpse of the picture. Most of me will always remained unspoken. Not because I don't want to share them, but because words are not the appropriate way to share them.
Yes, I do get judged from those people who read my diaries - most of them were so rude, they did not even ask for my permission a priori. The most annoying was that I tried explaining myself when I received a judgement that was waayy off, and my explanation fell into deaf ears. People only see what they want to see. So I thought, so be it. As long as I know myself and that I stay true to myself. Other people can either accept or not accept, in which case I cease being their friend/acquaintance. I make the decision to run away. I don't owe anybody any explanation.
In this life, I am only responsible for my own happiness. I am certainly not responsible for the state of the world, let alone be the person to solve the world's problems. I only come to this realisation a few days ago when I was exchanging a few thoughts with Big Foot. I used to feel guilty because I was born privileged and so I felt obligated to do something good for the world, and felt guilty when I was not doing anything that was remotely of social or humanitarian nature. Whoever said that I would make a career in the humanitarian front is severely misled because I can't stand that line of work. I respect people who do them a lot, but I know that I am not one of those troops.
In a lot of ways, I think I am superficial. I am drawn to people who look good. Ok, who isn't? Good looking people are attractive, and my tendencies towards them is only a product of what they are. Because of this, I have a preference towards beautiful things. I just can't help it. If there are two choices, I would naturally choose the more beautiful one. I mean, really, who doesn't choose the best out of the available choices? Who is not selfish that way?
Ok. The end.