A man named Dale Carnegie said, “Stop worrying and start living.” He even wrote a whole book just to teach simpletons how to do exactly that, simpletons who worry over something that may or may not be their business, simpletons like me. The idea of imperfection is terrifying for me, especially imperfections that don’t necessarily belong to me. But who am I to judge something that’s imperfect? I’m only a grain of rice in a vast unending field of wheat. A thing that looks like it belongs but in actuality it doesn’t. A stranger among friends and families, or maybe a far relative.
My legs were aching but they weren’t close to stopping. The day was already dark and a couple of hours have passed since the setting sun. The moist soil stuck to the soles of my running shoes. Fallen leaves would join in occasionally but I would stop for a second and took them off. The wind was strong, a sign that a storm was coming, but that didn’t stop me from running. I would actually welcome the rain, just another bad thing to add up for the day, nothing much. The woods were silent. Only the huffing and puffing of my tired breath, the rustling of leaves, and the occasional hooting of owls were present. But all those sounds were trapped from my barricaded ears, not a single one leaked inside my head. I was deaf from the moment I started running. Not because of earphones or any other things that can plug them, I was wearing nothing on my ears. I was deaf of the world because I chose to.
I felt powerless inside the never-ending maze of greeneries. Much like how I feel today. I only ran right then because I felt like I have nothing else that I could do. The events were unfolding faster than I could grasp them. They all opened up one after another in hopes that I get confused and start chasing for something that’s already been lost into the abyss. I couldn’t believe how horrifying it was. It was worse than any horror movie that I have ever seen. My emotions swelled up inside my stomach so bad that I felt like hurling them out puking. Melancholy, Curiosity, Fury, and the worst of them all, Despair.
Humans are uncontrollable. The idea of peace is only a myth. The imperfection of the world is endless. But still, humans hope. They hope that they can change the world. They hope that they can reach peace, create a utopia. But that’s what most humans do, hope. There are those who hope because they rely on others. There are those who hope because they would rather do something else. There are those who hope because they feel powerless in the middle of the world. I am one of those who feel powerless.
My mind was too busy thinking to have realized it had poured down heavily. I stopped for a second and pulled the hoodie of my windbreaker up and tied it down to prevent it from flying off. I stared at my wet shaking hands. I felt a tear coming from my eye but I ignored it and started running again.
I had begun to notice for a couple of days that we were breaking apart. I thought it was only my imagination but a bit of news had proved otherwise. It was none of my business but knowing that they were in dispute had me confused and sad. I wanted to do something but I was powerless, I didn’t want to seem like I was barging into someone else’s life. I didn’t think I could do anything, even if I could do something I wouldn’t have the courage to. In the end, I didn’t do anything but worry.
My legs were on the verge of collapsing. I stopped just in front of an abandoned shack in the middle of the woods. I had no power to move. I thought to myself if I should end it right here. But what good will come from ending it now. I would only be more powerless in the other side. I wouldn’t even be able to do anything or enjoy anything. I let my eyes leaked for some time in front of the door. Then I collapsed right there in the rain.
I woke up the next morning inside the shack. I was sleeping on a pile of leaves. I didn’t care how I got inside. I only remembered the events that occurred yesterday. My powerless human being trapped in the middle of something I’m not aware of. The sense of despair I get from not doing anything. It was not long after did I decided to go home. It was a miracle that I didn’t end up with a cold or a fever. But then I was isolated back inside my quite room. Only the sound of the clock ticking was present. I couldn't stop worrying, worrying about the seconds that pass by, worrying what would happen in the coming time, worrying about anything beside myself.
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