The Drama and Confessions of the Chronic Listener | Personal Blog

Hello world again after a loooong break 👋🏻 Let me warn you from the start, this will be a somewhat pessimistic, sometimes suicidal (I'm kidding, please don't misunderstand), and occasionally Sylvia Plath-inspired piece for you, my esteemed readers. So, without further ado, let's begin.

Sometimes I get so trapped in my own head that I forget, or want to forget, that there are other people in the world. I think the second option is more suitable for me. I want to disconnect from my surroundings, my family, and any communication in general. I think the reason for this might be the demands people make of me. Before I get into that, let me talk a little about my own personality. I'm generally a very good and active listener. Whatever the person in front of me is saying, I try to feel what they're feeling at that moment, and then, without shame, I take it upon myself to address it. This is something I've generally observed. You know, the kind of person who listens to everyone's problems, but when it comes to their own problems, they can't really express what they're feeling or what they're going through (or maybe they find it difficult to express it), constantly wondering if they're bothering me or if this topic interests them. Lately, I've been thinking about this a lot, and I think I may have found the answer. Maybe the problem isn't me, but the other person's? Just a thought, maybe? Friends, I'm the kind of person who likes to filter my thoughts through a sieve 10, 50, maybe 100 times. And so, naturally, it takes me a long time to talk, or the words that come out of my mouth don't satisfy me, and while I'm trying to find alternatives, I miss the point. Actually, maybe if you put someone in front of me who could wait for me forever, the problem could be solved. That's an idea, my friend. We're caught up in this deceptive world these days, sir. And sometimes the person in front of me drains so much of my energy that I don't even want to express what's on my mind because that last shred of desire gets wasted and flies away in the process of giving advice. I'm constantly giving pieces of myself away, and I'm not sure if those pieces are going to the right people. Yes, they might be going to the right people, but… I don't know. God, give my mind peace.

I feel lost in my thoughts. I don't know who I am, what my life philosophy is, whether I'm good enough for myself, what I'll do in the future, whether I'll die tomorrow, whether my opinions will change, whether I'll like my changing opinions, whether I'm being exposed to these opinions, whether the people around me are enough for me, whether I deserve better and if so, whether I'll work to stay there, whether I have the strength to work. I DON'T KNOW, I DON'T KNOW, I DON'T KNOW, I DON'T KNOW. I'm not sure of anything; what I say today might be something else tomorrow, and even the possibility of this inconsistency terrifies me. Being sure of myself and the world scares me because of the fact that life could suddenly suck me in like a siphon… Oh my God. I think this is the first time I've ever let myself go so much while writing. It's so relaxing. I plan to do this more often.

Anyway, what were we saying? Ah. I feel like everything is taking a piece of me. There are so many things I want to do, actually. For example, last month I started a new bucket list. So far I've written four items, and that alone shows how many things I want to accomplish. Playing the violin, spending time with friends and family (which I think is the most important thing), studying, cooking… even the simplest activities feel like they're taking something from me. And I've just realized that what I mean by "me" is my time. I don't want to waste my time on worthless things. I want to fill that moment with meaningful things. So, as you can see, I'm a bit confused these days.

With your permission, sir, I'd like to end this writing here. I hope it hasn't been too pessimistic, but it's partly true, isn't it? Then, see you next week, or maybe in two days. To the days when we find ourselves…