Stream of Consciousness

Dear Reader...

Ehi you.
Yes, you who are reading this.
Hello! Nice to meet you!... well... sort of.
I don't know you (don't worry it's not that sort of letter) and you don't know me, and yet here you are, continuing to read the letter that a stranger left in a random book in a random library. What were the odds?!

Anyway, you are probably wondering why I wrote this letter and left it in a book... Well, there is no way to soften the blow: if you are reading this I am probably dead.
And I say "probably" not because I am some kind of super-spy recruiting you like in the movies, I say it because I honestly don't know if I'll actually kill myself after writing this or not. So do not be sad or worried, because this is like Schrödinger's cat. You can't know the cat's fate if you don't even know where the box is!... (that made sense...right?)
If I am dead, don't feel sad for me. I had a normal life, it was just too hard to bear it at this point.
I am not going to give you my sob story divided into 13 tapes, don't worry.
I just want to talk about everything and anything... I feel like I can't do it vis-à-vis with people sometimes. You know, there is always something restraining me. Like a constant thought about how I am going to be perceived as weird, or how the things I want to say are not important, or how they have probably bigger things to think about than my little rant about the last show I saw or my insight about this society's problems.
So I keep quiet, letting people talk about their problems or their worries, trying my best to help them. Because what is my purpose in this life if not to be of assistance to others?

Ah, the purpose of one's life. What a complicated topic it is.
What do you think about it, dear reader? (I am sorry I can't address you by your name, but I am no fortune-teller) Have you ever thought about it?
I think that the concept of "life's purpose" is a comforting, yet frightening idea. On one hand, being put on this earth with the purpose of doing something is a comforting feeling because you know you have a path to follow and that nothing can go wrong on that path; on the other hand, it is frightening to think that you have one and only one path that you can follow and so the entire concept of free will crumble beneath your feet, and with that, it collapses the whole philosophy of the age of Enlightenment.
This dilemma is one of the reasons we are here today. I am lost. I don't know what to do with my life. I don't know what I am good at, I don't know what my dreams are. I look at the future and the only thing I see is a dark tunnel that I don't know where it leads.
For all my life I was told what to do, where to go, and how to do things perfectly. Now no one is telling me anything, but I guess they still want me to be perfect, right? They expect me to do everything right. What if I don't?

Ah, sorry. I promised you I would not write about my sob story, yet here I am. But you are a wonderful listener and well, technically, I am not forcing you to read this!
But I don't want to sadder you, so do you want me to describe today's weather? This is one of those topics you pull out of your sleeve to kill an awkward silence, is it not?

Today is one of my favourite weather. It's raining, but not the annoying rain. the little autumn rain, the one inseparable from the mist that makes everything mystical and mysterious. The perfect weather to cancel all your plans and read a nice book near a window with a warm mug of tea and the sound of the rain as your only background.
When I saw this weather this morning I decided to come study in the library, because I am still a student and I can't fall behind in a class just because the weather is nice.
"Well, you are not actually studying" you could argue, dear reader. At that, I would retort that I started studying, but given that I was studying literature, I thought "What if I write a letter to a random stranger" and here we are. Do not ask me about my thought process, I don't even know it myself.
Anyway, this weather is also perfect for dancing in the rain to your favourite song. Is something I always love to do because it helps to romanticize my life, making it more bearable. It's all fun and romantic until you wake up the next day with pneumonia but we are going to ignore it. It's also very relaxing, feeling the drops hit your face softly while you lay on the ground with your eyes closed: only you and the sky's tears. It's like it tells you "You are not alone, you are not the only one that sometimes cries, little one" and with that, it washes away some of your worries.
Have you ever done that, dear reader? If not, take my advice and do it!

I would love to chit-chat more with you, but I need to go.
Don't worry, I won't jump off a very tall something... yet. A friend of mine has just asked me if we can go to our usual café because she needs to tell me something. As long as people are relying on me, even for the smallest things, I'll have an excuse to exist just a bit longer. Plus the few friends I have are good people, I can't add my death's burden to the problems they have already.
It was a pleasure and an honour talking to you, dear reader. I hope you'll have a wonderful life.
Goodbye.

Aki