All must have their own beginning. Perhaps it is there to serve as a mark for measuring our silly progress. Perhaps it is there to find our selves in times of doubt. Perhaps it is there to define our credibility. Whatever the case, it must be there, a constant. We all innately seek for a home even after we depart from it. We may despise it but in the end, we all return to where we were. All that breathes on earth will return to the earth in their final days.
Our infant minds may have inconveniently written multiple blank spaces in our memories, blurring the truth in our pasts. Parents and elders may have inaccurately filled in those empty lines but it is assuring to know we began from somewhere, whether we do or don’t know. And for this matter, this is where you can start.
Engulfed is a place where I try… no, struggle to find meaning in our insignificance at the expense of drowning in the unforgiving misfortunes of the world. Pessimistic I may appear but I try to find value in the heartaches and misery. I believe that sadness is a necessary part of coming into age. The timing is somehow perfect to illustrate everything here since I am at a stage in life of drastic changes, teenage years. It feels insensitive to say welcome since most of what I will share here are unwelcoming. It is as if a museum disguised as a haunted house where unaware people are free to visit yet they feel suffocated when they leave. So enter if you insist.