content
Someday I’ll feel content . I will have a house and a dog and maybe even a partner of my own and I will feel content . But every time I rest, the tragic films of my past will loop in my mind, and every time I’ll rediscover that I’ve never been as calm and content as I claim to be . What does it mean to be content ? To fulfill all your needs or to have no needs at all ? To be content with yourself or with the way other people treat and perceive you ? Does it mean feeling stuck, with no purpose and no room to expand your life’s path ? I want to walk the longest roads that will only lead to more treacherous paths, to learn until my brain gives out, to feel worthless and exhausted more and more each day if it means there is room for more . I choose to feel overwhelmed rather than content, for my mind runs faster than my legs and my soul cannot stay stagnant .