“I used to be the kind of person who really loved traveling”, he said to himself. “Almost… from the age of 18, every summer I would travel around, solo, with my huge backpack. I went to all places and meet all kinds of people. Some of them became friends, while some were more like a nightmare. I was obsessed with this feeling: never knowing what will happen tomorrow, never knowing what kind of person I’m gonna be.
Every morning, I wake up from an exhausting journey, in a random corner of the world and so far away from home. I almost… don’t know who I am anymore. The person I used to be seems like an image from the past. Everything I used to value doesn’t weight any more importance. The only thing I know for sure is this moment. Just like being born, once more, and once more.
Sunset from a mosque in Melaka, Malaysia
But… when I aged eventually, after years and years, this kind of feeling became vaguer. You know, all the blurry faces and endless road.
When the night comes, in darkness and silence, old memories came back to me: The life in that small rustic town I once have… Finally, I understand why people in that small town were contented to have such a simple life.
One day, I’m gonna reflect on my former self and probably will be surprised to find myself spending so much time doing completely meaningless things. But I’m not regretting, absolutely no.
I think none of us knows what are we doing with our lives. Indeed, no one does. But… just don’t stop wondering in our hearts, whether the road is narrow or wide, is happy or sorrowful.
This is the journey of life. Without the past, there would be no present, and without the present, there will be no future”.
This process is not “suffering”?
“Not at all” — he smiled.