Goodbye... Me...

 The summer I left for college...

Everything felt gray. The world around me was put behind a wall and I was merely spectating the scenarios, or so it felt like. The laughs I shared with my friends and the stories of lovers and crushes that still made sense to discuss even after school was over might have been some of the best times of my life. In the nights we'd have a sleepover but not sleep at all, and in the mornings we would be up playing basketball, all of it seems like a fever dream now. A few years ago I wouldn't have thought this is how I would be living my life. Did I deserve to be this happy? Or maybe not, since I would proceed to fall out with a close friend and have another tell me that we weren't close. Hell, I couldn't even get into the college I wanted to. It makes me wonder if I even knew anything back then. Even today, I think the answer is still "No". Maybe it has always been this way. Maybe all this time I never really knew anything. I found a strange comfort in that thought. I had lived in this city for 8 years. Having to leave it was much more difficult than I thought it would be.

SISYPHUS...

The Myth of Sisyphus, of how he'd roll a boulder to the top of a mountain every single day, and how the boulder would roll back down as soon as he reached the top, Albert Camus used this story to establish his philosophy of absurdism. He said that Sisyphus was happy with his plight because he was at least alive and that the point of living is to make it an act of defiance against the cold universe, to live out of spite for the insignificance of our lives. Sisyphus wouldn't escape his fate but I like to believe he'd been curious if the fate he believed had been meant for him might not be true. I like to believe that Sisyphus looked forward to the next day, excited to observe if something new would happen to his cursed existence. Sisyphus was handed the meaning of his existence not of his free will but as a punishment by the gods. He might have been happier had he chosen himself to push that boulder every single day. Maybe Sisyphus will wake up tomorrow in a completely different place but until he didn't let go of the fate he had been handed, his tendency to push the boulder, he might not see the blooming valley that lay ahead of him. Sisyphus would have to move on and find new meaning, maybe learn how to skip stones in the rivers. But whatever it is, Sisyphus would still remember the boulder he had pushed, and he would have to let go of the comfort of hiding behind that boulder.