Maybe I’m just an idea of what it’s like to be human.
There are moments when I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing. I think I’m just stereotypical and not good at anything. But maybe most of the stuff we think that make us aren’t important at all – maybe we are just perfect with who we are. Completely unconcerned with how we look or what we own, if we have a partner or not, whether we own a house or if we have a mink. But maybe we don’t need all of this. Maybe we are just right.
I’m okay with having only one ending. The ideas buzzing in my head are infinite and live beyond me. But during my time on earth, I can control them – I can be one of the people who create something and trigger something in others. I leave a footprint for everyone around me – with some I know for a fact that I put a smile on their face, with others it may be unconscious. And even though there are phases that can be uncomfortable, I know it’s part of it: Part of life. Part of being human.
I want to be a part of it. Not to be controlled, but to make my own decisions. It’s not something I have to ask for. I just do it. Take one step at a time. Stretch my hands forward and feel a touch on my skin. Close my eyes and breathe deeply. Feel as air passes through my throat. As colors change around me and tears run down my cheek.
And I see memories – they are not mine, but they seem confidential. Snapshots. Jam jar moments. Joy. Lightheartedness. Freedom. All at once. I don’t know how I feel – but I want to try. Someday I’ll might. Someday I’m alright.
And then I can finally answer the important question: ೃ⁀➷ What was I made for? *ੈ✩‧₊˚
