You know what’s the saddest thing?

If we all lost our own thoughts.

If we forgot what it’s like to think on our own, reflect, create.

I feel like I’m starting to lose my thoughts.

I guess maybe I’ve felt too consumed by them that I thought they were a bad thing. But now that I hardly think about things as much as I did before, I really do realise how precious they are.

Instead, my head starts to fill up with other things. Or maybe it’s like a disease that spreads. A slow hardening, spreading, killing. And it gets tiring.

When I was in primary school, we had this teacher that made us write reflections after doing something wrong.

It was a burden, humiliating. The word doesn’t really give me much of a good feeling (I had to write quite a lot of these I think).

Now I think I know why they’re called reflections. If you don’t go back and remember, and think, and process everything that’s happened. Your feelings, your memories, you can’t create meaning from them.

It’s like a mirror. You stand in front of it, wipe the dust of its surface, and there you see yourself clearly. You can only see yourself as a reflection. In the same way, if you don’t reflect you can’t possibly look at every day with meaning. It’s the only way.

It seems like I’m passing by this mirror with only just a fleeting glance everyday now. I don’t take a closer look at the way my eyes are starting to dull, the limpness of my hair, the stagnancy of my smile.

I want to find myself again.


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