Don\’t know if it\’s a good thing or a bad one.
I was chatting with my friends from high school, and we talked about how depressed but also naively happy we were back then. This is a text from our convo and I really liked it, it\’s me talking about my first tattoo:\’sometimes I really feel like I am living my second life already, that I have died once, and my old and painful soul is buried in that tattoo. It is with me, but it doesn\’t bother me anymore.\’
Then I realized that I hadn\’t felt this pain in a long time. The pain of my surroundings, the pain of really hating my life now and knowing that I can\’t change anything, the pain of thinking that the future I want is so far away and the way to get there is fucking difficult. Also, the happiness that I have right now. Sometimes I walk out of the dorm building and the nice weather and the soft breeze that swifts through my hair makes me smile, and sometimes I just think about my life and feel genuinely happy. This doesn\’t mean that the things that caused me pain don\’t exist anymore, just that they don\’t cause me as much pain anymore.
And I read my past journals and found those painful words so beautiful. Like, they are so true and the stories they hold used to be so damn painful to me. And now they remind me of that particular time, how I felt, what I was going through, and all that. I felt so alive when I read through my words.
Then I got a little lost. I clearly knew that all of these were a part of me, and they threatened as a reminder that the less I achieved, the fewer opportunities I had earned for myself, the higher the possibility that I would graduate and go back to the kind of life I hated. I certainly don\’t want that to happen. But also, the opportunities, the bright future that I gradually gain a rough vision to, are luring me to forget all these, that I will be fine with my current life, and I might not be working as hard.
So I really don\’t know, the pain is missing from my life. At least for now.