Contemplation

As I return home and delve into the depths of my old memories and contemplations, I can see just how much I have transformed and how extensively my mind and heart have grown.
Climbing the hills that have comforted all my childhood steps, I meet an old me that ceased to exist a long time ago.

Apart from analyzing the changes in my psychological structure, I enjoyed observing how people have changed or remained relatively the same.
Few are still preoccupied with the most trivial matters. They fail to appreciate the simple pleasures of life, such as taking in the fragrance of flowers or gazing at the sky. Instead, they get terribly angered by uncontrollable aspects of life like weather or traffic, or politics.
While I am sitting there, contemplating the shape of my spoon, they try dragging me into a catastrophic web of thoughts and fabricated problems.
They speak to me in a language they themselves don’t understand, and their attempts to embellish their thoughts are simply bewildering. They seem to believe that by adorning their minds, they can elevate them beyond mere weeds. And I see right through that unskilled performance.

I often find myself pondering why so many invest their time and energy in trying to sell a fabricated persona. Is it driven by the fear of being ridiculed or the illusion of control that entices them to cling to white lies?

In moments like these, I’m grateful for the passing years that have helped me bridge the gap between my inner self and how I present myself outwardly. Embracing the philosophy of “what you see is what you get” has become increasingly effortless. I simply care less and less about how others perceive me. When faced with questions, I choose to respond with unwavering honesty even if that ends with me scaling myself down. Not because I am wiser, but because I cannot justify the act of granting someone authority or influence by pretending to be something I am not.