I've been thinking a lot about this and last night finally I made a decision to give it a try.
It seems senseless. Why am I even writing this? For whom? Why do I care? I can't really think of anyone that actually cares for anyone but themselves. Some time ago I thought of dedicating my journal to a daughter I will have, one day. But now I have to accept I will never have a child. And I don't know if that is actually better than having one. What would I tell her?
I catch myself starring at one point at the wall. As I move my eyes across the wall, tv, furniture, I don't see any difference. It's the same as the first spot. Senseless. There is nothing worth looking at. There is no depth. Just bunch of things we choose to buy at some point in time thinking it will bring us happiness, or joy, or just make our lives better, easier in some way. But after time it all just becomes a thing more we wasted our energy on. I feel like a puppet that fought hard for a freedom from its master but once it became free it got lost, it couldn't find a purpose in itself.
So why am I even trying? What is this about? Why this blog?
I don't know. One more thing to do before I go to heaven. I guess I will find out.