25

I’ve been thinking about what I should write now that I’m a quarter of a century old for a long time. I haven’t really come up with anything good or especially deep.

It’s not as though I haven’t grown at all this past year—or in the twenty-four years preceding this one. I just feel like I haven’t had any super deep revelations about the meaning of life and who I am and what are we all really meant to do.

But maybe that’s not such a bad thing.

We as humans spend a lot of time making ourselves look good like we know what we’re doing. In reality, most of us are completely confused about who we are and have very little idea of who we want to be and where we are going. We spend money and time and anything else we can think of trying to find meaning in life beyond the mundane every day tasks we face.

We complicate an existence I believe should be quite simple.

It’s difficult to pinpoint exactly how one is meant to live simply in a complicated, fast-paced world. But I think perhaps we don’t have to.

I think we just need to put one foot in front of the other taking each day as it comes.

And maybe in its own weird way, this realization is something deep and meaningful.

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