The Person

There’s something interesting in reading a book or watching a movie or talking to somebody. There’s always the sense of wanting more. One second leads to other second of getting, of reaching the climax or to the discovery of something new that people can’t forget. So is life to me. Or was. I used to want more out of it. I used to demand more, to get intrigued into my life — or even others — and make something out of it. But as a book gets boring, of a film gets guessable, or a person gets so annoying, so is my life losing its meaning slowly.

The person that used to be so invested in those things start to show signs of tiredness, feeling like they‘d had enough, boredom, even annoyed if the same things are being talked about. What do you do if you were that person? Do you go on, work on it, stop it, stop working on it? Or what would you try to prove wrong there? When you can’t be someone else and those questions are replaced with the so-called “life“, things will get ultimately more difficult and challenging. Because you‘re not just a book, a movie, a song, or just anyone. But maybe I lost care of myself on the way, and P.S. I am that person.

Erlangen, 7/10/21