A Quiet Breath

what defines our existence, and us.

are we defined by the things we do on a regular basis, and the things that we did in the past; or the words we say, or didnt say; or our academic qualifications that determine our career prospects; or the clothes that we wear and the accessories we match our clothes with; or our social circle and the people we hang out with all the time; or our preferred genre of music and the songs we listen to; or our physical appearance and the society's concept of beauty; or the place that we choose to dine in and the cuisine that we like; or our perception of what is right and wrong, and the thoughts that we choose to express to the public; or the religion that we subscribe to and the 'god' that we worship; or our beliefs and the values that we choose to uphold; or the qualities that we possess and the skills that we can offer to the community.

or are we merely defined by what others think of us, since what we say or do is never really what we set out to mean, but what others interpret our words and actions as.

i dont know why im here, where im heading towards and what im doing everything for. so much for an existential crisis.

it feels like dawn. but it is only 1:23 a.m. in the morning. slumber is knocking on my door.