The Unhappy Me!

Look! How infatuating adulting seemed once… This was the thought that ran through my mind during my teenage years. Back then, I was foolish enough to believe that growing up would bring me all the happiness and freedom I was missing. That, I now realize, was my biggest misconception. The fake smiles adults wore were nothing but a trap.

Standing here today, being an adult myself, I understand the struggle and the pain behind every possible luxury that once appeared so casual. I now see how difficult it truly is to spend years on this strange planet—while once upon a time, I even wished to be immortal. With time, I came face to face with harsh realities: the weight of our existence, the atrocities around us, the fakeness of people, the fading humanity, the power of money… and the list doesn’t end.

It’s not that I think I can’t do anything in life; my concern lies elsewhere—why should I? What is the point of doing anything when, eventually, nothing will be ours? One day, it all collapses into zero, just as it was before we came into this world.

I carry no fear of separating from anyone, no fear of losing myself, no fear of people drifting away. The only fear I hold today is—will I be able to carry myself till the very end? Watching others manage life so gracefully gives me FOMO—why can’t I handle things that way? Everything I enter into starts to feel unnecessary after a while, and I push myself away.

I don’t know whether this is just a passing phase of life or if this is what life truly is. Whatever the future may hold, what I do know is—the present doesn’t feel fascinating at all. Still, I wish one day it finds its track.