Some days, feelings shift as quickly as topics do on my social media feed. One moment, I’m out there, feeling like I’m on top of the world. And then, scraps of a conversation later, it seems like the world is crumbling into pieces.

What changed? Nothing. A thought that circled around for just a second too long. Eyes a little too dry.

So here I am, questioning whether my third coffee of the day causes the deeply wanted creativity boost or if the only thing that will be boosted is my anxiety. Should I risk it? Is it worth trading today’s sanity for a tiny chance of comfort? My logical side says no. It always does. But my creative side says yes.

Bitter taste.

I realized.

Everything has changed – but at the same time, nothing has. Things stay the same, yet they evolve to something that might be nowhere near their starting point. Blind progress. Until you wake up in a different reality. Isn’t that how it works?

I’m still not sure how to navigate this unexplored terrain. Maybe it’s best to walk into it even further. With a chance of getting lost or losing people along the way – but with a heart for exploration. To a novel land, where I can be myself even a little bit more. I am not sure what to expect. But is there any alternative?

Feels like skydiving for overthinkers.

Every few months, I dive into a pool of orange sunsets, listening to my favorite music, thinking that this will be my new chapter, my new season in life. This will be it. New characters, new plots, new stories.

Following that logic, I might have lived through five seasons or chapters (whatever that might mean) in the past two years. What if it’s all one? One story, one big plot with loads of characters where everything makes sense in the end. The exciting part might have just started. Previous parts were just leading up to it. Things could be wildly different in a year or two. Or similar but better.

That’s what the myriad of hypothetical realities all share: They never stop and they always change. Sometimes positively, sometimes negatively. But the slope is leading somewhere. And wherever that might be, it’s better to live through the story than not.

After all, that’s why I am sitting here, writing these lines. It doesn’t really matter, but it matters to me whether I have published these lines. I want to have lived this part of the story. If you’re the sum of the things you do, what other choice is there than to do those things? To go places, have conversations, take those decisions, be kind and curious, and share things that mean something.

Sweet fragments of bitterness. :)