Thoughts In the Quiet of Night

A Whisper of Time

As I run, I feel the dirt under my feet, the wind flowing through my hair, brushing gently against my face. I close my eyes and breathe it all in. I feel connected to the earth. I feel free. The trees sway, the leaves fall, and the wind whispers around me. The night sky sparkles like glitter, and it makes my heart feel light.

When I was a kid, storms scared me. But now, as I grow, my love for the earth has grown too. Why now, though, when I can't fully enjoy it? Life isn't fair—it never is for anyone. But why? It's hard to believe that someone out there has the perfect life, not working to create it, but loving the life they were given without any struggles.

Now imagine you're me. Feel the dirt under your feet, wet and grassy from the gentle drops the sky sent. Don't mind it. It feels good to be in touch with the real world. Do you hear the wind softly speaking? Do you feel the air filling you with life? Look at the sky—how huge it is, and how small we are in comparison. The only reason anything has meaning is because of us, our society, the way we think.

I wish you could feel as free as I do right now. No stress, no worries—just you and the earth, where we belong. Dance with me! Spin, jump, smile. Let the earth make us laugh, and let's give back to it for keeping us alive, despite how we've treated it. I hear the earth's whispers, the wind's howling, and I feel like I need to shout too—no words, just a cry of happiness and sadness all at once. It feels so good.

For a moment, I forget about my problems. My body feels happy to just be here, but I know when this moment ends, it will become nostalgia, just a memory that i will crave. I hate knowing that I'll miss this moment while I'm still in it. I regret not enjoying things fully when I had the chance. So, let me give you some advice—something you've probably heard from books, movies, or other people: live life to the fullest. I know it sounds easier said than done, and it is—the world we've created traps us. But we hold the keys.

I'm not telling you to follow my advice right away because I didn't when people told me the same thing. But it really hits differently when you realize you don't have much time left. Then, you start thinking too much, and it's hard to stop. Especially if, in the past, you felt like you didn't want to exist—but now that you know you won't forever, you don't want that anymore.

Why are humans like that? Why don't we appreciate things when we have them, but when they're gone, we want them back? Well, for me, it's not gone yet. I still have a little time to enjoy what I can. I'll try my best, even though it's hard when you know the end is coming, and you don't know when.

What's a blessing and what's a curse?

Anyway, hi, welcome to my past. Take a look at my life. This is about you reading me, just as I am.

I've always wondered what it would be like to travel back in time, to see how things were or to communicate with my past self. In this story, you're me from the future, because by the time you're reading this, I won't exist in the same way. So, as you read, try to be me for a moment, and if any of this advice feels right for you, take it. Let's start with where you are right now.

You're a young girl—or maybe not. Maybe you're a teenager, an adult, or an older woman. But I'll call you "young" anyway. This might feel a bit like a diary, but really, it's just what I want you to know, or what I would've wanted to tell myself.

This story is about "what ifs"—the choices I could've made that would've changed everything. What if I had gone to a different school? What if I never moved away? What if I gave up on my education or stopped staying in touch with friends? What if I just dropped everything and ran away, stopped caring about it all?

Would I have ended up homeless? Maybe. Would I be stressed again? Definitely, because the runaway life I sometimes imagine isn't the life I would actually want. Life in this busy city is hectic, and it lacks connection to the earth. Sometimes I wonder how we're still surviving with so little nature around us. Of course, I know how oxygen works—I'm not talking about that. It's more of a feeling, like we're missing something.

Now, did all of this make sense? Like this story? No. But did I enjoy writing it? Yes. And honestly, that's all I care about. It's really just about expressing how I feel. If you're reading this, you're probably confused because none of this really makes sense, but if you can make sense of it, that's great. I hope it's a good kind of sense.