I've been feeling quite weird lately. No, not weird, but distant, off beat, just really out of it. Not in a bad way, but not in a good one either.
Sometimes this feeling will leave me alone for a few weeks, and then just consume me for days. It's pretty hard to go on with everyday life in those days. I mean, feeling like there's no reason for me, for anyone to exist, thinking about how I'm just a single individual in a sea of different people, different lives, different stories. It's overwhelming but also somehow soothing.
I'm sitting in a train, looking through the window. I see people. Just people. Their bodies, their hair, clothes. But they are so much more than that. Each of them has a personality, a life. Family, friends, feelings. One of them just got married, one of them just lost a loved one. One of them has to drink anti-depressants, another is the happiest person alive. He's allergic to cats, she likes to drink her tea with honey, but hates sweet things.
Speculations, possibilities, some of them are true, some are not. But the truth is, they all are just like me. With problems, thoughts and feelings, happy and sad moments. Each different but somehow still the same.
I'm looking through the window. From outside I'm just another person in the train. Inside of me are thoughts, an ongoing war with myself, flowers growing in my mind. And I'm just a single person in this enermous sea of people.
But even all of us together are nothing. Because there is the whole universe, filled with things that we'll never see. Things, that are unreachable, unimaginable, that have existed uncountable years before us, and will exist as many after us. We all exist in a tiny piece of time, we mean nothing, we are nothing, but still, in a way, for each of our selves, we are everything.
And trying to wrap my mind around this idea, to really understand it, I feel is impossible.
