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Most of the time we are afraid that we are not living in the best chapter of our lives. there is this quiet suspicion that something greater exists somewhere else, and that we are currently settling. so we cope. we gather friends around us to feel whole. we build small bubbles where we cherry pick moments, conversations, and people that make us feel temporarily complete.
It is a month later now. Wren has been going through something that feels painfully familiar to me, something close to the days I once lived without understanding . today he texted me, excited, talking about learning psychology and trying to understand the human mind and anxiety. I felt briefly happy for him. he sounded genuinely alive, like someone who had finally found a door he wanted to open.
Wren is not usually the type to dive into these themes. he is into anything but interoception, so when he spoke with that kind of curiosity, it caught my attention. then he said something that touched me. he said there were no days he hated himself more than those days. the moment I read that, I felt tightened inside.
I once emphasized how I see writing as a must , and how it helps me to understand myself . I did not say that lightly. At the time, I thought I was already being radical in my statement. I thought calling writing a “must” was extreme enough. But I have come to a stronger conclusion since then,
Some of the things that force clarity of mind in writing are not the words only and the choice of words, but the links between them. linking notes is not a decorative feature. it is structural. it allows thought to move from being scattered into being shaped. this is something that can hardly be utilized in regular note taking apps, but when you use a more sophisticated system or a personal blog, you allow this feature to exist naturally.
I have had a unique friendship with someone who, on the surface, could not be more different from me. his name is Mahmoud. when I first met him at the university of Khartoum, I was almost certain that we would never become close. not because of conflict, not because of incompatibility in values, but because he represented something I was instinctively afraid of.
I don’t really find myself like everyone else. most times, I have no opinion on almost everything. I have no favorites. I don’t have a stance on almost anything that happens. I get asked, what’s your take on this? what’s your stance? and when I try to investigate myself within, I find none. there is no clear answer.