i went back and for the fun of it i read through every single blog post entry i’ve ever made. i peered into myself from over the years through my own words. it was interesting. turns out, much has changed but i’ve changed almost not at all.
there were travels i’d written about, jobs i’d rambled through, love found and lost i gushed and mourned, and there was so much, just so much that i used to write about Nepal. maybe it was coming “home” and returning here with fresh eyes that made me so eager to respond to everything. men i saw on the street, poverty, bus rides, beauty queens…just…everything.
in recent months there’s been less to say about the country, things turn normal and it’s hard to find topics on which i can write lengthy commentaries. it seems i still think as much (which is still way too much) but things have taken a turn internally. i seem to only write about me. and though i’ve said it here before, i’ll say it again, this is my space and i will write about whatever seems fitting.
what seems appropriate right now is how i feel significantly less compelling. what happened to provoking thoughts? what happened to new discoveries? have i hit that dreaded spot of stagnancy? am i no longer interesting? i wonder if these things should worry me.
a little while ago, i met someone new and over dinner he asked me to sum up my life philosophy in one sentence. i said that we should never stop questioning, i better start listening to myself. there are more questions to be had but maybe a few answers to be found. how exciting.