#64 ~ Phone Day
It's Friday, last day of the weekend. On Fridays, I like to make a point of phoning friends and family, or sending text messages or emails, especially with the ones I don't see or talk to often. I don't think we realize how much these things are appreciated, to be asked how we're doing, to be checked up on by the people close to us.
But I also dislike Fridays. It's on this day that I hate living in Jeddah. I get the feeling that I could be doing so much more, that I could be a thousand times better as a person than I am now, that I could be meeting people and living life instead of watching or reading about it being lived elsewhere. I have to put so much effort on very small things and only achieve very little. And it's exhausting. Running as fast you can just to stay in the same spot.
Most Fridays, I question the decisions I've made; I question the purpose of everything, of this blog, of my efforts, of all the things I do, and I wonder if there's any point to all of this.
And the answer is, of course there's a point. Sharing, even over-sharing, is therapeutic. We share our triumphs, and the beauty we observe, and the things we do, we share them because there's an awesomeness that comes with the knowledge that other people have experienced all this, that we are not alone, that someone somewhere, whatever stranger that may be, has gone through the same joy and is nodding their heads in agreement as they read.
This is also why we share our loneliness and our fears. It helps ease the misery when we know that others have felt this way, that they have gone through all this hell and have come back fine. It makes our pain normal, and therefore manageable and not so massive. It's okay to be miserable sometimes, and it's okay to feel like a failure at everything every now and again.
In the meantime, life, and the blog, goes on. For instance, we all still have to eat.
But I also dislike Fridays. It's on this day that I hate living in Jeddah. I get the feeling that I could be doing so much more, that I could be a thousand times better as a person than I am now, that I could be meeting people and living life instead of watching or reading about it being lived elsewhere. I have to put so much effort on very small things and only achieve very little. And it's exhausting. Running as fast you can just to stay in the same spot.
Most Fridays, I question the decisions I've made; I question the purpose of everything, of this blog, of my efforts, of all the things I do, and I wonder if there's any point to all of this.
And the answer is, of course there's a point. Sharing, even over-sharing, is therapeutic. We share our triumphs, and the beauty we observe, and the things we do, we share them because there's an awesomeness that comes with the knowledge that other people have experienced all this, that we are not alone, that someone somewhere, whatever stranger that may be, has gone through the same joy and is nodding their heads in agreement as they read.
This is also why we share our loneliness and our fears. It helps ease the misery when we know that others have felt this way, that they have gone through all this hell and have come back fine. It makes our pain normal, and therefore manageable and not so massive. It's okay to be miserable sometimes, and it's okay to feel like a failure at everything every now and again.
In the meantime, life, and the blog, goes on. For instance, we all still have to eat.
These are "upgraded" photos I took, for the Shit We Eat segment of this blog. Previous posts HERE and HERE. Also, above is Shit Souma Ate. XD
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