05-07-’17 - One ought not to long for what has passed away, nor be anxious over things that are yet to come. The past has left us, the future has not yet arrived.
And there I stood. Looking up, to the sky and her almost full moon. Upwards, because that’s where my vision of my future told me to rise to.
(This is the story I wrote in my diary on day 5 of the meditation camp. Bare in mind I was here 3 years ago in November 2014 when I was only 17 years old. Now I’m 20 and I’m returning to the place where I found myself through sustaining silence for 11 days, sleeping on a wooden pillow, 2 meals a day, waking up at 4AM and being separated from any electronics and any form of communication. Being alone with your mind only, and of course mother nature and her mosquitos. This is day five, a day I changed again.)
I felt like crap. My mind was somehow controlling everything and was forcing a negative energy on me. Not seeing people smile was one of the reasons I was feeling worse, even though I realised the people here are focused and the environment is taking its toll on some people, but yet, I feel horrible. My thoughts were getting dark and I am questioning everything: my purpose of being here, the way I’m changing, the intentions of the world and the people I see. I was almost feeling like a monster as if the world was against me and thought I was the strangest thing alive. I see people as something scary and mean and I lost sight of the good. I started to believe that whoever I was, it didn’t mean anything and wouldn’t matter. Everything is temporary and when it’s gone, there will be nothing or no one to care about it, cause being cared about is what makes things matter, right?
I’ve been collecting flowers, blossoms, coconuts and other fancy things. I use them do decorate my empty room. I’m in room 208, when I was 17 I cried in the exact same room. Room 208 in 2017. Coincidence? I don’t know? Faith? I don’t know, but it was the only room left in that hall though. The window from my room was getting more colourful every day and it felt like I was IKEA-shopping, but then the jungle edition of it. The men who are passing by my room probably think I’m going mad, I don’t blame them though. They don’t know why and neither do I, or did I? There are two reasons why I’m putting flowers at my window.