Overwhelmed
Everything about this world is slowly turning it into such an overwhelming place. You’d think that with the easy access of information everywhere, we’d actually benefit more, when in fact it does nothing but overwhelm us more and more. The more I learn about things, the more I realize there’s still a lot to know, and that feeling of ignorance – or rather the constant lack of knowledge, is too damn pressuring.
I want to learn a lot of things – different things, but the more I dig into any of them, the more I realize they’re infinite. I want to learn everything about my religion for instance. I want to hear all the stories and know about every prophet and every influential islamic figure out there. I want to really understand the basic requirements and not only rely on what I’ve been spoon-fed over the years. I want to understand the Qur’an and correctly interpret its beautiful verses. I want to connect with God on a much deeper level rather than just spiritually. But then I also want to learn how to properly cook my food. I want to understand what the different ingredients do and how to smartly use them all. I want to learn about the different types of food and understand when to eat what and why. I want to take care of my body but I can’t always do it when I don’t completely understand how it operates. Then I have a job that I so desperately try to grab bits and pieces about from every person I work with, because I really want to fluently speak about it the way people who’ve been doing it for over 10 years do when it’s only really just been a year for me. I never feel like I’ve grasped it all, because every new thing I come across makes me realize there’s still a lot more to explore. And as interesting as it sounds to constantly be learning, giving some answers for a change – instead of constantly asking all the questions, also does sound like a very pretty idea too. Then I want to write about everything I go through and express everything I feel inside in all the right ways. But there’s so much to learn about writing and I always seem to choose the easy way out; I just do whatever I feel like doing then convince myself it feels like that’s exactly how it should be. I’ve always advised people to read more so they can write more, but then I can count the number of books I was actually able to sit down and read this year, possibly on the fingers of a single hand. I call myself a writer so I can release some of the pressure of having to actually learn how to be one, because guess what, you need to properly learn/practice that too.
I want to learn about the world, about the history of all those places I’ve never been to. I want to learn about the history of my own country, beyond what my social studies book never even taught me at school. I want to learn more geography, understand how cars work, and fluently speak so many languages other than my own. I want to learn about programming, understand how to take good pictures with professional cameras, and effortlessly move around the gym knowing exactly what to do. I want to learn more interpersonal skills, and know all there is to know about skin care. I want to hear more music and read more poetry. I want to watch more movies and listen to more world news.
Above all, I even more desperately want to learn about myself. The way I am. I want to explore what I like and what I don’t, beyond what I only simply got used to or what I never happened to come across. I want to learn how to love myself and how to survive through those days when I seem to admire every single person out there in the world but her. I want to let her know that it’s okay to not know all what she still doesn’t know about, but I still can’t always get her to listen to me. I want to learn how to love myself without having to learn how to.
There’s too many things I’m not sure if I’ll ever stop wanting. This world is just too big of a place for me, and I’m not sure if it will ever stop being this overwhelming.
