I’ve decided to start writing again. Not sure what to write about but just kind of feel like writing again. I guess writing is a way to talk to my unconscious self. There is voice in my head that needs to be listened to. Now that I’ve decided to write again, what should I write about? I’ve been chatting with strangers on the net. Should I write about that? Should I write about him? Should I write about myself? Or should I write about philosophy?! The big questions. What are they?

I am not sure but I should just keep writing until I find out what I want to write about. Then I should be okay. Sometimes I think I think too much. There is nothing to be worried about. I mean, what difference would it make, worrying or not worrying? I’d probably die sooner from the stress of worrying. That being said, if I just do what I feel like, would my life be better?I think once I stop worrying, I know what I really want to do. And if I just do that, then I would get satisfaction from fulfilling my desire. I think life is not only about fulfilling desires, but what would a life be like without fulfilling desires?    

I have been taking a walk to the beach almost every morning and it is very healing. I suspect myself to become depressed if I don’t see the ocean, though I didn’t think much about it in the beginning; I thought it was just good exercise.  I take a photo of the ocean and the island nearby and I sit on the bench and just listen to one song from my playlist and then return home.    Often I feel lost. Especially in the morning, I don’t know what to do with my time, and the day ahead can be a overwhelming dread.  What should I do today?  What do I want to do today?  What do I need to do today?

The questions started bugging me in the back of my head and tried to remind me to be someone who knows how to take care of herself, someone who knows what to do with herself and to be responsible for her life. A big lie. The truth is I don’t know what to do with myself or my time. And why should I? Because I am an adult who has already lived half of her life and a mother of two teenagers? That’s just bullshit. I never know what to do with myself. One day as I sit and look at the vast blueness and seeing the colors changing by the sunlight and the clouds at every moment, I realized that the ocean really heals. It feels like my emotions, good or bad, are all absorbed by the ocean: all is forgiven. And I am reset.