I’m a writer. Obviously. I love to write. But sometimes when I write – like I’m writing poetry or song lyrics – the first sentence that comes to my mind more often than not is this: I don’t understand. Maybe it’s because of writer’s block, or maybe it’s because I genuinely don’t understand this world most of the time. I do not understand the human desire to hurt one another. In fact, I don’t understand cruelty at all. It’s a foreign concept.
Another thing I don’t understand is the way some people live. I’m a very straightforward and practical person; if I don’t have money to buy something then I don’t need that thing. Yet people around me buy the latest technology and then complain about being ‘poor’. It’s something that irritates me because I have seen the ugly side of poverty right now. Right now, my family and I don’t have a car, and even if we did, we can’t drive because my mom is too sick and I don’t have a license or the money to even consider one. All of the toilets in our house don’t work properly and I’ve gotten accustomed to the way our ancient washing machine sounds like an airplane taking off when we do laundry…but I’m happy. I’m happy writing songs and poems and this blog and crocheting blankets and other things for charity. I’m happy with my two cats who give me all the love in the world. I don’t have an iPhone. I never have. I can’t imagine using internet outside of my house!
Despite not being able to understand it, though, I love the world. I feel rich in love and happiness, even though I’m not rich in money or health. I don’t have a lot of family, but I love the ones I do have.
I suppose it’s a complicated world. Maybe that’s why I avoid it. I’d much rather just stay in my room, keep to myself and crochet things for those in need. That way, I know that I’m helping someone else, and even though it’s not much, it’s something I can do, and I’m grateful for that.