In this life, I’m a wanderlust.
I don’t travel to places but wander and explore one life to another. You see, I don’t have that much friends unlike the others but I can easily find a connection to anyone. I neither have a clique to call upon when I’m down nor a batallion to fight back for me if I’m hurt. I only have my faith and my free-spirited mind.
The most difficult part of being a wanderlust is when you feel lost and empty but you don’t feel alone because you are one with the world; that loneliness is such an understatement; that when it’s easy to build a connection you can destroy one in a snap of your fingers.
When I see the potential to anything which might lead to something permanent I can’t help myself but wander and back off.
I’ve grown tired.
I used to take things seriously, thinking that it will permanently and consistently stay there in my life, but wouldn’t. Now, I have learned to love the idea of impermanence and inconsistency. I have seen the beauty of people being inconsistent, things changing rapidly, and life evolving drastically. I’ve learned to accept the fact that I am temporary in anyone’s life.
I can get dumped because of my look; get forgotten because of my personality; get neglected because of my ideas; get taken for granted because of my long understanding and patience… I can either accept it or die with it, and I choose the former.
As a wanderlust, I’ve learned the value of solitude because it is where wisdom begins. If I stay here and do not leave, then I’d be the one left out. Who wants to be excluded and left behind? I don’t, but I have to accept it. +++