In a van filled with around 7-10 people, you notice that nobody is interested to talk to anyone, be it they are colleagues, friends or just strangers, everyone likes to see through that plain transparent glass into the outer world. Thinking of his own story. What is going on within one cannot be discovered by the world outside. We are all passengers of the wagon of this World. Working, Learning, resting and searching for our own stories. For people living abroad, apart from their relatives from their loved ones life seems really miserable at times. But there are times, that the time spent with the ones you know is harder and even more worse than when you're suffering alone. You often get beaten really hard from them. And as a consequence your feelings inside while looking out of that window seems to be a questionnaire of what might have gone wrong with you and the world around.
I like reading faces of the people around. Try and assume what would life be for them. Hard, Light, rough, tedious or just plain LIFE . Waking up in the morning, getting ready, off to work, back home, eat, sleep and wake up again. Sometimes this life gets plainer and plainer. No need to think of something extra as you are doing the most you can bring out of yourself. Then what is the use to search for your own story. Is it mandatory? Is it necessary that I do have a Story of my own, that I can proudly or regretfully tell to anyone? Im confused which path to take, either to look for my own Story or try and look deep into whats going on in the lives of people around. People around who are not mine, Im not connected to them in anyways except for both being Humans and both having the need to survive in this world. I guess I want to try and help them pass this life in a better way, I wish I find my story here somewhere passing by this path.
I dont feel like worthy enough at times. But I know I am, I can do things I have in mind, but often there is a small pin somewhere in my mind which strikes when Im at the verge to do something. That pin is of an unknown fear. A fear I have not yet recognized, but I'm sure that with the passing years, and with my progression in this path of finding stories I will find a way to know what fear do I have and I suppose that I do have a story of my own, a story that is filled like a girlish diary about all the stories I have found in my way so far :) Coz I guess I like my Story that way :)