Tired

I sometimes wonder that how is it possible that at such a young age I can be so tired, and not tired in the physical sense, but just weary of the world and everything. It's a marvel how most people grow old and trudge through life as if it were mud at chest level.

A friend once asked me about dying. She said what would you have done if you knew your death was imminent, would you regret not having done enough or certain things. I would, but if it happens, it happens, I just feel as if I'm not looking forward to anything so nothing should really hold me back in that regards. Of course, I would regret things like leaving my family behind and my friends would have one less person to care about, but it's quite surreal to think about it.

To think about dying is to essentially think about leaving and not coming back. My mum and most of my relatives like to talk about dreams, particularly dreaming about my deceased grandmother. Like how she seems to be waiting for something, or holding someone's hands, or walking to or away from certain places and in certain peoples' dreams, crying. They like to speculate about how Mother was trying to send them messages, because the older generation in my family are having quite a situation with themselves over greed and such. It's not in my place to say, not that I know anything significant anyway.

In my work, I have encountered many instances where I am encouraged by people not to say anything when I don't know enough. Which is fair, because as GP teachers they apparently really listen to anything I'm trying to describe and i end up having so many holes in my descriptions that it sucks as a story.

Anyway, back to leaving, if I really hard about not doing certain things, I would have regretted not enjoying life more, like having sex or going for skydiving. But these seem trivial compared to the grief of those around me. That would really be my only concern, if any.

I just can't believe such a young mind can grow so weary despite experiencing so little.