What more comes from the story of my father and him reciting his poem is just a deepening of the reality that I am largely a detached observer in this world.
I don't create stuff I just vibe with it. I feel empty sometimes when I acknowledge it. As a kid, I used to lie and as a teen, I used to pretend that I had created stuff. I liked the synthetic distinction I had. For the people who didn't knew me thought of me as a great 'whatever I told them' but I did nothing. I admired art but never put a decent effort into it, I liked poetry and stories but never willed to write them myself, I pretend to know how to play guitar but know only a few songs, I pretend to have lived an extraordinary life but don't remember most of it.
I could fake most of the things because I have done all of them partially and have enough knowledge about them but I wonder if my future self will look back ruefully at me for the things I didn't try hard enough or put more action in and maybe wasted the potential, I wonder if my future self would forgive me.
¯\_(⊙_ʖ⊙)_/¯
